


Heart on the Trigger

by djchika, Stucky1980



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Bodyguard Steve Rogers, Discussion of addiction (non-explicit), M/M, Mention of past drug use (non-explicit), Musician Bucky Barnes, Rockstar AU, Slow Burn, Stucky Rockstar AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 02:30:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16317440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djchika/pseuds/djchika, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stucky1980/pseuds/Stucky1980
Summary: Bucky is a rockstar, one year sober, his sober chips shaped into guitar picks. Steve is an army vet wrangled by a friend who needed an additional bodyguard for the tour. Their time together is made up of small moments, quiet stretches where the whirlwind of the tour and Bucky’s thorny past fades into the background. But nothing stays in the past for long and Bucky will need to face up to it sooner or later.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Literal months have been spent on this fic and I am so absurdly grateful for these three people: Lisa, my artist, and Luci and Kittens, who helped me beat this monster into submission.
> 
> Lisa is a genuine delight to work with and is mind-blowingly talented. She's a collaborative force of nature and I'm lucky to know her. Luci makes me a better writer every time that I'm fortunate enough to work with her. I've thanked her a million times and I still owe her a million more. Kittens helped jump start the whole process and propped me up when I was struggling like crazy at the start of this adventure.
> 
> They're all perfect people and I owe them the world. :3

The bronze-plated pick rolled smoothly across Bucky’s knuckles. Low light bounced off the metal as it moved, glinting against his multi-colored fingernails. Underneath him, the stage floor vibrated with the pulsing energy of a thousand cheering fans.

Bucky took a breath, put the bronze pick back in his pocket, and slipped his actual pick from between his guitar strings. To his left, Clint gave him a wide, excited grin as he adjusted the strap of his bass guitar. Bucky smiled back, let the noise from beyond the thick curtains wash over him, steadied his feet on the sleek wood of the stage and took one last fortifying breath.

There was nothing more to it. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

A roaring applause swelled into a crescendo as the curtain rose, Tony’s guitar riff punching through the cheers rousing the crowd even more.

“Madison Square Garden! Let’s all give a rocking welcome to Civil War!”

-

 

[Image: An article from the website justjared.com about Civil War's concert. One the left side is an image of their album cover. The album cover shows the profile of all five band members: Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark and Bucky Barnes. Bucky is facing slightly to the front.

Headline Text: Civil War Kicks-off Comeback Tour in New York City

Article Text: Following a two-year hiatus, Civil War is hitting the road once more with their third North American tour, “Homecoming”. These five New Yorkers are starting it off with a sold-out show at Madison Square Garden. After that, they’ll be rocking out across the country for the next three months.

Made up of Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, and newest member, Wanda Maximoff, Civil War was once considered one of the fastest rising bands in the scene. Fans were dismayed when a massive blowout between Tony and Bucky resulted in Bucky leaving the band to pursue a solo career.

Despite rumors of drug addiction, Bucky’s first solo album, _Winter Soldier_ , debuted to rave reviews and continued success for the musician. In a surprising turn of events, Bucky chose to patch things up with his old band and return as Civil War’s lead singer and guitarist.

Their cross country tour will culminate with a music camp set up by Civil War in Malibu, California. The camp, dubbed SHIELD Academy, will be open to fans. Most of the campers attending, however, will be sponsored through various charities that the band supports.

Bucky had this to say… MORE HERE >>]

-

 

[Image: A tweet from user @CIVILWARBAND (Civil War) with a photo of the band on stage.

Tweet caption: @CivilWarBand: Feels good to be back! No better place to kick off the tour than here at home. Thank you, New York! #CivilWarHomecoming]

-

As soon as the curtains descended, Bucky’s hand was back in his pocket, gripping the bronze pick so that it was pressing into his palm. Clint’s joyful whoop was punctuated by Bruce’s cymbals crashing and Bucky had to grin at the display even while he fought the urge throw up.

There was a reason his sober chip was shaped like a pick. It was a physical reminder of how far he’d come and everything he could stand to lose.

“Good show, man,” Scott said, breaking into his thoughts. He was already holding Clint’s bass in his left hand, and Bucky quickly slipped his own guitar off and gave it to him. He rarely let just anyone handle his guitars, but Scott was the best guitar tech any band could have.

“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” Bucky replied. He barely had the words out of this mouth before an armful of dirty-blonde retriever barrelled him over, the rest of Bucky’s dark thoughts crumbling to ash as they both fell onto the stage.

“Fuck’s sake, Clint!” he yelled with a laugh. “You’re gonna damage the merchandise.”

Clint gave him a pat on the cheek with a hand full of confetti before helping Bucky up. “Don’t worry I would never hurt that pretty face.”

“I meant my hand, but thanks,” Bucky said dryly as he picked off pieces of metallic paper. How they looked on the cover of a magazine was as much their money maker as their talent, but he wasn’t enough of an douchebag to preen over it.

“Speak for yourself, Buckaroo.” Tony strutted over, a woman on each arm. “My most valuable asset is definitely not my hands. Although I can do miracles with them. Am I right ladies?

Bucky exchanged an amused look with Clint as the ladies tittered at Tony. Unlike the rest of them, Tony embraced the rock god persona like nobody’s business.

“You up for a private party?” Tony raised his eyebrows at Bucky, more of a dare than an invitation. “Clint is forboden by that mystical ring on his finger, but I’m sure they could round up a couple more friends for you.”

From the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Clint watching warily. Bucky didn’t blame him. To say that his relationship with Tony was tense was an understatement.

“I’m afraid I have other engagements,” Bucky fibbed. His immediate plans consisted of nothing but a hot meal and hopefully a good night’s sleep. The charming but apologetic smile that Bucky gave Tony’s guests was well-practiced. “I’m sure you ladies won’t mind having Tony to yourselves.”

“When did you become such a grandpa?” Tony asked in a tone just short of snide.

Bucky was saved from answering by Wanda. She was practically floating as she danced towards them.

“We were amazing!” Wanda’s accented English contained so much joy even Tony forgot his petulance and was grinning back at her.

Bucky wrapped her in a congratulatory hug. He had almost forgotten this was her first official gig as part of the band. “You mean, _you_ were amazing. I don’t think I was ever that good when I was your age.”

“You’re all barely five years older than me,” Wanda said, with a playful swat at Bucky’s arm.

“Mentally you’re, like, twenty years ahead. But your keys were definitely on fire tonight, kid,” Clint said which earned him a bright smile from Wanda.

“Don’t let her ego blow up too much,” Tony teased. “We still have 25 shows to go.”

Clint scoffed. “If we needed to watch out for anyone’s ego, it would yours.”

“I’m simply owning my self-worth. Did you see that sign? Women _and_ men want a piece of this ass.”

“And I’m going to kick your collective asses if you don’t finishing packing up right now,” Natasha’s voice yelled from backstage, cutting off the argument. “Celebrating can happen on the bus. We need to roll out if we’re going to keep our schedule.”

Bruce strolled past them, twirling his drumsticks between his fingers. “You really should listen to her. We have Phil for this tour and he’s threatened to leave us if we’re late.”

Tony gave them all his best showman’s smile. “Let’s get this show on the road, folks. C’mon, ladies, I hear they have really good showers in this joint.”

Bucky shook his head, taking a moment to give his shirt a sniff. Maybe a shower was a good idea. Preferably somewhere far, far away Tony and his groupies.

-

“Barnes!”

Bucky whirled around, caught with one hand on the bus door. He winced as he made out vividly red hair in the dark. Jesus. Natasha was almost as bad as their old road manager and Hill was a hard-ass.

“Nat, c’mon, I’m five minutes late. I was totally rank and I didn’t want to stink up the bus without a shower.”

“Thank you for the update on your state of smell,” Natasha said when she reached him, completely deadpan. “Please tell us more.”

Bucky blushed when he realized that there was someone with Natasha. A six-foot someone wearing a too-tight shirt leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

His eyes couldn’t help traveling from a ridiculously tiny waist to shoulders so broad he could probably play his guitar while standing on them no problem. It was like the guy had been cast in a mold then stepped out of an EZ Bake Oven fully formed.

“Steve Rogers,” Too-tight shirt said, offering his hand, completed oblivious to how blatantly Bucky was objectifying him.

“Bucky Barnes,” he said, taking Steve’s hand and giving it a solid shake. The smile that Steve gave him was shy, lighting up his eyes. Bucky was instantly charmed by their color, a vibrant blue that reminded him of his first Strat. It’d been a custom guitar his parents gave him during his last summer before ninth grade.

Everything about Steve elicited the same heart-stopping response Bucky got when he first laid eyes on that guitar.

A quiet cough tore Bucky’s attention away from Steve and back to Natasha who was quietly observing the two of them. Bucky schooled his face into a more neutral expression, narrowing his eyes slightly at Natasha. She replied with the barest quirk of her eyebrows. Hardly noticeable to most people. For Bucky and anyone else who knew her, Natasha’s expression was loud and clear: _I saw nothing except I saw everything and you and I are going to have a talk about this._

“Steve here is the newest member of Sam’s security team,” was what Natasha said out loud. “Hodge had to bail so we’re man down.”

Bucky had no love Hodge. The man was loud and a bit of a bully, but he was still part of the crew. “What happened?”

“Personal reasons,” Natasha said, cryptic as always, but Bucky knew what that meant. With all the downtime they had everyone knew everyone else’s business and Hodge’s business definitely had the gossip mill rolling for a while.

“Steve isn’t just his replacement,” she added. “He’s your new babysitter.”

Steve looked affronted at the word and Bucky would bet the same was mirrored on his face.

“Isn’t this overkill?” Bucky glanced at Steve apologetically to make sure he didn’t take it personally.

Natasha gave him a look. “Fury’s orders.”

Bucky also knew what _that_ meant. Stalkers and wackjobs were par for the course. When someone got a little too close to be marked a legitimate threat, the record label forked over money for added security detail.

And if their manager had been the one to hand down the order it meant there was no way Bucky was getting out of having a personal bodyguard.

Natasha stared him down, as if expecting Bucky to voice his objections. He glared back and crossed his arms to at least show his displeasure. Picking his battles may not be part of the twelve steps, but it was definitely part of being friends with Nat.

Seemingly satisfied he was going to do what she wanted, Natasha nodded at them both. “That’s it. Play nice. Try not to get him shot and try not to shoot him yourself, Steve.”

Steve chuckled, a low rumbling sound that did funny things to Bucky’s stomach. “I’ll do my best.”

“Sam will fill you in on everything else,” Natasha said, already walking away without as much as a goodbye to Bucky. Mother Russia apparently forgot to teach her kids any sort of manners.

Steve looked torn between just leaving and giving Bucky a proper goodbye which resulted in him giving an awkward half-aborted wave before jogging after Natasha.

Well, fuck. Living on the road with twenty or so people was going to be claustrophobic enough. Having someone shadow him the entire time was far from ideal. Even is said shadow was both adorable and incredibly hot.

Not that Bucky was ready for any of that.

He opened the bus door and was immediately greeted by loud music and even louder voices.

The inside of the bus was crammed full of people, half of whom were supposed to be on the other bus and the the rest were random groupies who would be kicked out by Natasha before they left.

Bucky grinned at the chaos that surrounded him despite his earlier wish for sleep. Funny how quickly a tour bus could feel like home.

-

At two in the morning they were finally on the road and heading out of the city. The crowd in their bus had thinned considerably leaving only the band, a couple of roadies and Natasha who was up front with Phil keeping him company while he drove.

The only addition to their usual group were Sam and Steve. They were talking quietly, as the others slept around them. Sam sitting on one of the bunks while Steve leaned against the partition that separated the sleeping area from the kitchenette.

“Who’s the new guy? _Specimen_ ,” Clint said with a nod of appreciation. He made himself comfortable next to Bucky on the u-shaped sofa. Bucky moved his guitar off his lap to make room with an annoyed huff.

There was something about the quiet of night travel that always had his fingers itching to strum on his guitar, mindlessly creating melodies that he hoped would eventually turn into songs. Unfortunately,  it was also when Clint tended to seek out anyone who was still awake. The man could fall asleep literally anywhere, except when it was actually a respectable time to go to bed.

“Steve something,” Bucky replied, going straight to the meat of the gossip and ignoring the commentary on Steve’s admittedly attractive face, “Skye, the new roadie, told Thor who told Korg that Hodge’s wife found out about that cocktail waitress during his last gig and threatened to take the kids with her to her sister to Nebraska if he went on the road again.“

Clint whistled low. “How did she find out?”

“The waitress’ sister turned out to be her yoga instructor. How crazy is that?”

“Laura would have my balls if I even _thought_ about doing that to her.”

“Nat would probably taser you first.” Bucky and Natasha had known each other since NYU but she, Laura and Clint went back to junior high.

“Anyway, he’s on Death Eater watch,” he continued using the term that Clint had coined for stalkers because he was a huge ass nerd.

“Nothing like a threat to your safety to welcome you back to the fold.”

Bucky shrugged. The threats rarely amounted to anything. Then again, _better safe than_ sorry said the insurance company who didn’t want to shell out a couple of million if anything happened to him.

In the meantime, he had to live with having a bodyguard. He snuck a peek at Steve who was laughing at something Sam said, his wide smile showing off perfect white teeth. With a smile like that, all Steve would need to do is politely ask people to leave Bucky alone and they’d probably do it.

“Double Bs,” Tony called at them from the mini-refrigerator. Bucky wasn’t surprised he was still awake either. He and Clint had practically invented a new level of insomnia.

Almost on their own, Bucky’s fingers started strumming out a rhythm picking up on a sudden thread of inspiration.

He almost didn’t notice when Tony finally looked up from where he was poking around the refrigerator, a can in hand. “You guys want a beer? Fifty bucks say I can shotgun it faster than you.”

Bucky stiffened, shifting himself away from Clint. It could be entirely innocent, a byproduct of Tony being _Tony_ , but navigating the rocky waters of their relationship was still a skill Bucky had to relearn.

Guilt and realization bled into Tony’s face because, despite multiple evidences to the contrary, Bucky knew Tony possessed a fraction of self-awareness. Tony blinked and then raised a hand as if to placate them, “Okay, that was completely insensitive but, in my defense, I am known to be completely insensitive at all hours of the day.”

“You’re a jackass is what you are,” Clint said. He shook his head and nudged Bucky with is elbow. “I’ve been sober for twelve years and this guy decides to challenge me to a drinking contest.”

Bucky exhaled a pathetic attempt at a laugh. He appreciated that Clint was drawing Tony’s attention to himself, instead of how tightly Bucky was suddenly gripping the neck of his guitar. Someday he could be as cavalier about his recovery as Clint, but Bucky still had a long way to go.

“We’ve been in the presence of alcohol all night, Tony,” Bucky assured him regardless. “We’re not going to suddenly spiral if you have a beer in front of us.”

Tony eyed him skeptically, but relented and grabbed himself a can, popping the lid open and drinking half of the contents in a minute.

“As long as you’re sure,” Tony said wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Wouldn’t want Bucky Bear ditching us again.”

And there it was.

He had been waiting for Tony to get a dig in, but it didn’t curb the pulse of anger that slammed into his chest. Bucky gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at Tony and escalating things.

“You’re an asshole, Stark,” Clint bristled seemingly annoyed on Bucky’s behalf.

“When have you ever known me not call it the way I see it, _Barton_?”

"You guys want me to play something? Help you fall asleep?" Bucky asked somewhat forcefully, trying to disperse the tension. It was a thing they did, something that began during their first tour.

Clint nodded, still glaring at Tony. He moved to the other side of the couch so that his feet were tucked against Bucky’s thighs. Bucky looked up at Tony, quirking an eyebrow inquisitively. Barely an olive branch, but it was all Bucky could make himself extend given that Tony was the one being a jerk.

Tony rolled his eyes and shrugged, chugging the rest of his beer before spreading out on the other couch positioned opposite theirs.

Bucky plucked at the strings of his electric guitar, the sound muted without an amp. He spied Steve, now alone, watching him play. Bucky raised his eyebrows, tipping his head at the empty spot next to him in invitation.

Steve shook his head in return. He raised a small notebook as if to show that he was otherwise occupied. He then gave Bucky a half-smile and a tip of an imaginary hat that had Bucky oddly charmed.

Bucky let his fingers slip into a different tune, singing softly as he played. It was an old song, one he hadn’t played in a while. The familiar notes transported him to that disastrous gig in Berlin. He'd gotten so high it was a miracle he hadn't passed out mid-song. The one thing he remembered the most was that, despite being surrounded by people, he felt completely alone.

He took a moment as he launched into the second half of the song. Steve watched him with an unreadable look in his eyes, and Bucky found himself unable to look away. The world disappeared once more, but this time the darkness of his memories took on a different hue. Muted and calm. The blue-grey of the sky after a storm.

The last notes of the song faded into silence. Steve looked away first, giving Bucky a slight nod before moving to his bunk.

Unsure what to make of the exchange, Bucky went back to playing. This time he didn’t sing along. He just let his fingers find the music.

It took another half-hour before Bucky let himself succumb to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Heavy filtered sunlight streamed a gap, hitting Bucky right in the face. Keeping his eyes screwed shut, he shifted away from the light, growling when he realized a heavy weight was pining him in place. Blindly, he pushed at the mass but all he got was Clint’s muffled protest followed by a deep snore.

“Up and at ‘em, boys,” Natasha ordered. She sounded too damn put together considering she probably hadn’t had a wink of sleep.

Bucky prepared to completely ignore her and fall right back into unconsciousness when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted right under his nose. He cracked one eye open and was greeted by the sight of Steve Rogers standing in a halo of light looking positively angelic. The fact that he was handing Bucky caffeine just solidified Bucky’s assessment of him.

“You’re my favorite. Sam never brings us coffee.” He raised his voice so Sam could overhear him all the way to the kitchenette, most probably already drinking his first cup of coffee.

“Just trying to keep on the boss’ good side.” Steve grinned at him all sunshine and puppies.

Normally, Bucky firmly believed morning people should go fuck themselves, but Steve brought him coffee so he got a pass. Even if he looked better at too fucking early o’clock than Bucky had ever looked in any photoshoot.

“Nah, man,” Sam told Steve, walking over to them. “ _I’m_ your boss. This mess of eyeliner is what you call a pain in the ass.”

Bucky rubbed his eyes to remove any traces of eyeliner before he remembered that he had taken a shower the night before and Sam was a little shit.

He flipped him off, then downed half of the cup in one gulp. He honestly didn’t mind that they were making fun of him as long as hot caffeine was running through his veins.

A sudden, loud thumping from outside almost made Bucky drop his coffee.

“If you and Clint don’t come out here, you’re not getting fed,” Nat yelled.

Bucky peered outside the window and spotted a large nondescript house that had been converted into a restaurant. He desperately hoped it served some sort of breakfast food.

The thought of waffles and more coffee made Bucky’s stomach rumble.

“Wake up, I’m hungry.” Bucky pushed at Clint roughly until Clint rolled off the couch, landing heavily on the floor.

Steve looked at the lump that was Clint worriedly. He was still fast asleep.

“I’ve got him,” Sam said, bending down to give a solid Clint a shake. “You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up. Wouldn’t want our prima donna throwing a fit.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to respond. Sam had assumed it his personal responsibility to keep the band on their toes, never willing to take their shit in case the fame got to their pretty heads as he liked to tell everyone who’d listen. He had been there with Civil War from day one, working as a bouncer at one of the local clubs they frequented until Fury had put him on the payroll.

“What do you say, Steve? Ready for waffles?” Bucky stretched, working out the kinks from sleeping on the couch.

“I’m more of a pancake guy, but I go where you go.”

This time Bucky had to side eye him, coffee or no coffee. “Pancakes over waffles?”

“They’re a classic.”

“They’re _boring._ Learn to live it up a little.”

Bucky opened the bus door, took one step outside, and before he knew what was happening a man he didn’t know was in his face.

“Oh my god, it’s you! Bucky!”

He blinked and his head swam with images of a different man from years ago. Too bright lights and too loud voices.

Bucky shook his head to clear it. He barely had the chance to step back before Steve was between them. An immovable wall.

“Sir, I _said_ you need to back up.”

The man bristled, raising himself to his full height, which was ridiculous because Steve still had a good foot over him.

Bucky grabbed at the door to steady himself. A taste, sharp and bitter, flooded his mouth, the loud rushing in his ears drowning out the argument Steve and the guy were having.

“Hey, man! This is assault!”

“I haven’t laid a hand on you, sir. I’m just asking you to politely _step back_.” Steve replied, stressing the last two words as an order.

The guy waved the cap at Bucky while trying to kill Steve with a glare. “I just wanted an autograph.”

“Yeah, sure.” Bucky coughed to hide the slight trembling of his voice. He was in no danger. It was a fan, Nothing more. “What’s your name?”

Steve continued to stand between them, solid and safe, as the guy gave his name and Bucky took the pen so he could sign the brim quickly.

“Just don’t go sneaking up on people like that, okay? Security doesn’t really like surprises.”

The man smiled, appeased. “Sure, sure. Thanks, Bucky and good luck with the concert.”

Bucky smiled back politely, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans as they walked away to keep them from shaking.

The coffee he drank earlier churned in his stomach, threatening to make its way back up.

“Are you okay?” Steve stopped him with one hand on his shoulder, concern etched on his face.

“Yeah,” Bucky lied easily. “Fans get overly excited. You’ll get used to it.” That was another lie. Bucky was never getting used to people screaming in his face again.

“That guy was out of line,” Steve muttered, now on full bodyguard mode, his eyes scanning the area for more over enthusiastic fans as they started walking again.

“Buddy, that was normal compared to a lot of shit Sam has seen. You’re going to come out of this with a lot of stories to tell on dates.”

Steve gave him a self-deprecating smirk. “The last guy I dated turned out to have an army fetish and wanted to spit shine my boots. While I was wearing them. Naked. I decided it was time to take a break from the dating scene.”

Bucky full-on belly laughed, feeling some of his tension ease. He wasn’t sure which was more interesting: that Steve dated men or that Steve’s taste in men potentially included those who had unusual fetishes.

“If those are the only guys available on the market, then I guess NA’s prescribed abstinence isn’t too bad.”

“You’re a stronger man than I, Buck.”

A strange warmth spread in Bucky’s chest at the further shortening of his nickname. He resolutely ignored the feeling in favor of opening the restaurant door and focusing on the smell of grease and coffee.

-

[Image: A tweet from user @ClintBarnton (HAWKEYE CLINT)

Tweet caption: Nothing like a lullaby from @BuckyBarnes himself to help you get a good night’s sleep. Civil War is ready to rock Buffalo!]

-

Buffalo was cold and wet when they arrived.

Bucky witnessed Clint’s decidedly good mood after a hearty breakfast cooled just as quickly as the big, fat raindrops hit the ground.

“It was hot as hell in Manhattan. What the fuck, Buffalo?” Clint griped as they stood under the tent where they were supposed to wait for production assistants bearing umbrellas.

Bucky’s mood wasn’t any better. He hopped from one foot to the other, ignoring the weight on his chest that had started with the fan interaction earlier that morning. It seemed to have grown heavier as the clock ticked closer to showtime.

 _Get your act together. Such a fucking snowflake._ The accompanying face that came with the thoughts had him looking around for something to punch.

“That’s global warming for you,” Steve commented, peering at the dark grey skies. “Normally I’d say we just run for it but you rockstar types are so fragile.”

A violent shudder went up his spine. He knew Steve meant nothing with the comment but the words still hit too close to home.

Bucky forced himself to laugh. It sounded fake even to him and he couldn’t blame Steve when he gave Bucky a weird look.

Fuck it. Steve could handle a bit of weirdness. It was always hard when new people came in, especially when most of the crew had been present during their first and second tours, but breakfast had proven how easily everyone warmed up to Steve.

Steve had likewise proved he could dish it out with the best of them.

“Pal, if you can assure me I won’t get sick, I’d follow you into war,” Bucky replied, trying to sound casual. “But you and I both know Nat would have our heads.”

Natasha wasn’t there to glare at them since she and the rest of the band had already been ushered inside the venue, leaving only Bucky, Clint, and Steve at risk of being drowned like rats if the tarp didn’t hold up.

There was also the very possible risk of frostbite. Bucky rubbed his palms together then breathed into his cupped hands, trying to generate heat. When that didn’t work, he thrust them back into his pockets.

He glared at Steve. “How are you not freezing?”

Steve. wearing nothing but one of his tight-fitting shirts and a pair of jeans, looked every bit like a marble statue of some Greek hero. There was no way the thin Under Armour material provided any sort of insulation.

“I tend to run hot,” Steve shrugged, the tips of his ears turning pink at the sudden scrutiny.

“If we get stranded in a snowstorm, I get first dibs on snuggling with Steve,” Clint declared, forcing himself in between Bucky and Steve.

“He’s my bodyguard. Shouldn’t he be snuggling me?” Bucky asked, distantly amused at how Steve’s flush deepened at the comment.

Steve was saved from being subjected to more teasing by the arrival of a sea of umbrellas. He grabbed one and Bucky followed him and Clint to the entrance and hopefully to much climes.

 

_(Sketch of Steve holding a green umbrella, a pair of pink sunglasses hanging from the neck of his shirt)_

 

The pavilion loomed over them. Bucky felt the weight on his chest shift and dig in deeper until he was quietly gasping for breath.

-

Bucky sat in their shared dressing room backstage, rolling his bronze pick over his knuckles, and catching it with his palm, again and again.

He tried to time his breathing with the roll. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe.

Anxiety rose inside of him, cloying and slick, coating his lungs and wrapping tight. Successful musicians were not supposed to suffer from paralyzing stage fright, but Bucky had always had trouble during the hours before a show. Performing was different. It brought him to another dimension where only the music and the crowd existed. But before that, there was nothing to stop the monsters that fed on his insecurities.

And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? The first step was honesty and if Bucky was being honest with himself, he had been easy prey. It had been effortless to poke and prod at his insecurities until Bucky had happily sought refuge in what a pill had to offer.

He wasn’t denying that any of it had been a choice. It had been so easy to sink into nothingness, to float along on a cloud of apathy after a hit. How he had gotten into the mess was all on him. Being forcibly pulled under again, and again, despite his attempts to swim back up, that was a different story.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s worried face swam into focus. Bucky didn’t realize he had been digging the bronze pick into his leg until he felt Steve’s warm hand holding his.

Bucky pulled away quickly, pocketing the pick while, at the same time, making sure his phone was in there.

“Yeah - um, I just need to - ” His mind grappled for an escape. Anywhere he went, Steve was required to follow. There was nowhere to go. “Bathroom,” Bucky finally mumbled.

He rushed into the dressing room bathroom, grateful that it was unoccupied and quickly locked it behind him. Bucky stared at his reflection on the mirror, his palms flat against the cold counter surrounding the sink.

When he felt like he could draw a regular breath, he fumbled with his phone and quickly pressed one on his speed dial.

“What the fuck? Do you have any idea what time it is where I am?” A gruff voice answered after the fourth ring.

Relieved, Bucky slid against the floor until he was sitting on the bathroom tiles.

 

_(Sketch of Bucky sitting on the bathroom floor looking trouble, clutching his phone. The phone case is a rainbow of colors.)_

 

“It’s 11am, Dum Dum. We’re still in the same timezone,” he said, hating the slight tremor in his voice. “How late were you up last night?”

“My muse doesn’t care about mortal things like sleep,” Dum Dum replied. “How bad?”

Bucky breathed out sharply. “Four.”

“How bad do you want to stay sober?”

Another breath. Bucky thought about Nat, about Clint and Tony and Wanda and Bruce. About the good they were trying to do with SHIELD Academy. Thought about the rest of the crew and everything he would be giving up. “Still a ten.”

“Okay,” Dum Dum hummed. “Just keep reminding yourself of that. Now, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I fall flat on my face and completely tank. My guitar is set on fire and I lose my left arm in the process.”

Dum Dum chortled. “Fucking drama queen. What’s the best that could happen?”

“We bring about world peace just from our music.” Bucky could almost see Dum Dum rolling his eyes.

“What’s probably going to happen?”

Bucky took another breath, this one coming easier than the last. “We’ll play. The fans will cheer. Tony will try to bring along a couple of girls, but Nat will kick them out.”

It was a stupid exercise, a system they had worked out after years of having Dum Dum as his sponsor. Simple but straightforward.

Bucky hated to admit that it worked every time.

He sighed, thunking the back of his head against the bathroom wall. “For someone with a name like Dum Dum, you give some pretty good advice.”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” Dum Dum said almost affectionately. “You okay?”

“Yeah. There was a fan earlier. He kind of got in my face.”

The silence on the other end of the line signaled that Dum Dum was waiting for the rest of the story but Bucky didn’t have the energy to deal with it at that moment.

Bucky smoothed his hand against the fabric of his jeans. “I’ll call you again later? We’re on stage in a couple of hours.”

There was a beat before Dum Dum let him off the hook. “Anytime. Break a leg out there. I’m going back to sleep.”

The call disconnected without as much as a goodbye and Bucky had to shake his head at how many of his friends lacked basic manners.

A couple more breaths and he was able to push himself off the bathroom floor.

Bucky splashed water on his face, hands still shaking slightly. He grabbed his phone, gripping it tight. Hard enough that the edge bit dully into his hand but not enough to cause any damage. He wasn’t completely out of his gourd yet.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, he pulled open the bathroom door, and almost barged right into Steve who had a mixture of guilt and surprise on his face.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. “Were you eavesdropping on me?”

“No!” Steve looked down at Bucky’s fingers which where still tight around his phone then at Bucky’s face. “I just - I was just - I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I needed to make a phone call.”

“You needed to make a phone call... in the bathroom?”

The dubious note in Steve’s voice reminded Bucky of too many days spent under scrutiny and mired in paranoia. A sharp spike of annoyance shot through him. What was this guy’s problem? At least Hodge kept to himself.

“Yes,” Bucky snapped. “You wanna follow me into the john now too?”

Steve crossed his arms, a small frown on his face, obviously wanting to press but choosing to keep quiet.

Stalking past, Bucky ignored the feeling of Steve’s eyes on him and focused on getting ready. They had a show to put on.

-

[Image: An Instagram post from user warkittens with a photo of a Civil War poster signed by the band. Location tagged Town Ballroom, Buffalo, New York, Unite...

Instagram caption: warkittens THANK YOU FOR STOPPING FOR AUTOGRAPHS YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST #CivilWarHomecoming]

-

The drive to Boston had been both long and awkward. Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face, happy to finally be able to get off the bus. He grabbed his bag and headed out the door and towards the hotel. Bucky ignored the shadow barely touching the ground near his feet that suggested Steve had followed him.

Since the incident in Buffalo, he had found himself turn prickly in Steve’s presence. His previously unthreatening bulk now felt oppressive to Bucky. As if after seeing Bucky fall apart once, Steve expected him to keep fucking up.

A tiny voice inside him, one that sounded a lot like like Dum Dum, whispered that he was being paranoid. It didn’t stop the anxiety and anger rolling in Bucky’s chest whenever Steve was around. Much to his chagrin, he ended up snapping at Steve more than once since then.

Bucky reached into his pocket for his phone, but realized he had left it charging on the bus.

“Dammit,” he muttered, turning around sharply. He took three steps and immediately bumped into Steve. Fucking sun in his eyes and Steve breathing down his neck. “Fucking hell, pal, I know you’re required to hover, but can you give me some fucking space?” Bucky growled, pushing slightly at Steve.

He didn’t know if it was the push or if that Steve had finally had enough of Bucky, but Steve leveled Bucky with a glare. “I’m your shield. Not your punching bag.”

Bucky glared right back. “Just get out of my way, okay?”

“Fine,” Steve bit out, stepping away from him.

“Fine.”

He stalked back to the bus, yet couldn’t ignore Steve’s soft sigh from behind him. “I don’t know what I did to make you mad, Buck.”

Bucky wasn’t quite sure either.

-

“Holy shit! Barnes, you look like crap!” Dum Dum yelled at him from the open dressing room door. His arms were loaded with boxes which he carefully placed on a table.

Bucky, Wanda, and Steve looked up at the same time. Bucky and Wanda with smiles on their faces, Steve with a guarded look at the unknown guest.

Setting his guitar on the dressing room table, Bucky stood to greet him with a hug. “I missed you too, douchebag.”

Dum Dum let go of Bucky, turning to Wanda and giving her a charming smile. “You, however, are still gorgeous.”

“Bucky said you weren’t sure if you were coming,” Wanda said, giving Dum Dum a kiss on the cheek.

“And miss your first gig in _my_ city? What kind of lies is this kid spreading?”

Wanda laughed. “I’ll see you after? I need to go do sound check. Tony, Clint and Bruce are already on stage.”

“You betcha, little lady.”

“We’ll call you when we’re ready for you, Bucky.” Wanda said as she left. “Don’t eat all the donuts!”

He was now alone with Steve and Dum Dum in the room. An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Bucky hadn’t said a word to Steve since that morning and Steve had been staying as far away from Bucky as possible while still keeping him safe.

Dum Dum looked between the two of them, then raised his eyebrows at Bucky. “You going to introduce me to “Mr. Muscle” over there or do I need to do the secret handshake first?”

Steve walked over before Bucky could reply. He extending a hand towards Dum Dum. “Steve Rogers, bodyguard.”

“Dum Dum Dugan, friend, sponsor and general ass-kicker,” he replied shaking Steve’s hand and giving him a wink.

Steve laughed, . “We both have our hands full then.”

Bucky huffed. The last thing he needed was Steve and Dum Dum _bonding_ over him.

Seemingly aware of Bucky’s annoyance, Steve motioned towards the door with his head. “I’ll be right outside.’

Dum Dum raised an eyebrow once the door closed behind Steve. He stole Bucky’s chair and straddled it.

“One night stand gone wrong?”

“He’s my bodyguard.”

“One night stand _with your bodyguard_ gone wrong?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. He leaned against the dressing room table, crossing his arms in front of him. “We’ve just been getting on each other’s nerves.”

“Uh-huh,” Dum Dum said in that tone that Bucky hated. It was the similar to what his mom used whenever he wanted Bucky to ‘fess up.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I _know_ you,” Dum Dum corrected. He patted at his pockets. Bucky knew he was looking for a cigar and would stop once he remembered he’d quit. “Known you for a long time, in fact. So, what did he do?”

“He just— He was—“ Bucky thought back to the past couple of days and drew a blank. Steve had been there because it was his job to be with Bucky at all times. Embarrassment flared inside him, suddenly painfully aware of how juvenile he had been acting. “Nothing,” he admitted. “Steve did nothing.”

Dum Dum raised his feet on the table next to Bucky, smug. “Is this my only role here? Pulling you out of your large head?”

“You’re also my sugar dealer,” Buck said, indicating the stack of bakery boxes.

“Who said any of that’s for you? I’m still trying to get in Nat’s good graces. That lady is scary.”

“I heard she once took down a guy who was harassing her with her thighs.”

Dum Dum waggled his eyebrows. “Your bodyguard seems to have pretty good thighs too.”

Bucky pushed off his feet, laughing as Dum Dum flailed to keep from falling off the chair.

-

[Image: An Instagram post from user DumDumDonuts with an image of two donuts. One caramel with a black moustache and one teal blue with a speech bubble saying “woo hoo!”

Instagram caption: DumDumDonuts: Special delivery for our favorite New York band @CivilWarBand. #BostonStrong]

-

[Image: A tweet from user @CIVILWARBAND (Civil War)

Tweet caption: A buncha New Yorkers in Jersey. What could possibly go wrong?]

-

They were in Jersey and none of them were magnanimous about being in Jersey.

At that exact moment, they were in a tiny ass dressing room, fifteen minutes late for their soundcheck and waiting to see if the sky had actually fallen or if Scott was running around like Chicken Little for no reason.

Bucky pushed his foot forward, gently tapping the chair where Clint was contorted uncomfortably, fast asleep. He contemplated waking him up out of sheer boredom but settled on focusing on the rest of the band instead. They were playing poker with Steve — which Bucky knew was as much an attempt to kill time as it was to stop them from wandering off.

Not that it helped _him_ any. There were only so many times he could check his Instagram feed.

”Fucking Jersey,” Bucky grumbled.

“I lived here for a while,” Steve said, carefully rearranging the cards in his hand. “It’s not so bad.”

The movement caused Steve’s arms to brush against Bucky’s knee and he had to stop himself from flinching. He covered it up by pulling his foot up to where he was perched on the vanity table and retying his bootlaces.

Bucky worked hard to maintain a polite distance since Boston. He had taken Dum Dum’s advice to heart which boiled down to _if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all._ Like most of Dum Dum’s suggestions, it was unnervingly simple yet surprisingly effective.

It didn’t mean he didn’t _feel_ like snapping at Steve whenever he saw the guy open his mouth to say something only to close it and look away.

He rubbed a hand across his face when he realized he was glaring at the back of Steve’s head.

A large part of him, the part that was raised proper by Winifred Barnes, was wracked with guilt for being short with Steve. It wasn’t the guy’s fault Bucky was a semi-stable, recovering addict, even if Steve did need to mind his own business.

“I fold. How many games is this so far?” Bruce asked.

“Three and you owe me 20 bucks. Jersey here is going to owe me a lot more than that after this hand. Say didn’t we put in a clause in the contracts that banned anyone who was from New Jersey _ever_?” Tony raised his head as if to look for someone to confirm his statement, an all too confident smile on his face.

Bucky rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure why Tony bothered playing poker. The man telegraphed every play he made. At least Bruce always looked perpetually confused no matter what cards he had. That was one way to go.

“I’m Brooklyn born and bred,” Steve clarified, swapping one card for another, his face completely neutral. “But I had basic training here. Down at Camp Leigh.”

The fact that they both came from Brooklyn wasn’t what surprised him, it was that Steve had been in the army.

“Wait, you were in the army?” Bucky asked, unable to help himself. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Sam, Thor, Okoye, Korg. All of Sam’s security team were vets, but something about Steve told Bucky he wasn’t someone who took orders well. He could be wrong. He’d been wrong about people before. Boy, had he been _really_ wrong about people before.

“Captain Steve Rogers at your service,” Steve said, giving Bucky a mock salute. The gesture caught Bucky off guard and before he could react, Steve’s smile had faded from his face.

“Wanda?” Steve asked turning back to the circle, his ears tinged with the faintest blush.

Great. Bucky felt like an ass all over again.

Wanda made a face at her cards. “I fold.”

“It’s down to me and you. What’ll it be, Brooklyn?” Tony goaded.

Steve took one last look at his cards and pushed his own chips into the pile. “I’m in.”

He placed his fanned out cards on the table and gave Tony a shit-eating grin as the other man gawked at the straight flush.

“I was counting cards! There’s no way you had that hand. You cheated! He cheated!”

“ _You_ just admitted to cheating, Tony,” Bruce pointed out.

“Unsuccessfully at that,” Bucky added, earning himself a small smile from Steve. Awkwardness between him and Steve aside, he enjoyed Steve taking Tony down a peg.

“I demand to know how you did that.”

Tony’s grumbling was interrupted by the door opening to reveal an annoyed looking Natasha. As if on cue, Clint opened one eye blearlily.

“Are we on?”

Natasha shook her head. “We’re going to need another half hour. They’re having trouble with the monitors.”

Tony raised his hand. “I vote we just skip Jersey altogether. Who’s with me?”

Obviously on her last thread of patience, the cold stare that Natasha gave Tony would have made the abominable snowman feel right at home. “Just for that I’m asking Pepper to tweet about tonight’s concert from your account.”

Tony squawked but didn’t argue. Bucky knew he wasn’t about to get on Pepper’s bad side when she was scheduled to join them on the next stop. A definite downside to dating their publicist.

Without a parting glare, Natasha left, just shy of slamming the door.

“You really think she’d make Pepper do it?” Tony asked, handing Steve a couple of crumpled bills seemingly over his astounding loss.

Clint shrugged, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “I don’t know, man. I don’t think even Nat’s that mean.”

-

[Image: A tweet from user @TheTonyStark (I AM TONY STARK)

Tweet caption: Appreciate the love, New Jersey! Nothing like the Garden State to make a New Yorker feel right at home.]

-

_“Welcome Back! That was Black Panther’s newest single, Never Freeze and you’re listening to USO 94.3. We’ve got great music and even greater news ahead because we’re giving away free tickets to this weekend’s Civil War concert! All you need to do is call us up and tell us the name of the band’s three albums._

_We’ve got five sets of tickets to giveaway so keep trying! In the meantime, here’s a throwback to a song from the band’s first album. I’m not telling you the name, you gotta work for it a little! This is “Radioactive” by Civil War._

_Keep it here on USO 94.3.”_

-

By the time they rolled into their hotel parking lot in Pennsylvania, Bucky felt like he had been dragged through the mud, sleet and snow and then left outside to rot. It wasn’t just him. Every person in the tour crew was cranky and in need of a hot shower.

It didn’t help that the hotel had fucked up the booking and they were only getting half the rooms they needed. Bucky didn’t think she’d seen Natasha look so murderous.

“If you kill the general manager, maybe we can take his room,” Bucky joked. He spotted a couple of fans trying (and failing) to seem like they weren’t taking photos and resisted the urge to put on sunglasses to hide his tired, red-rimmed eyes. The last thing he needed were rumours about him doing drugs again when all he was craving was a decent night’s sleep.

He pulled his baseball cap lower over his forehead, hoping that the shadow would at least hide his face.

“Don’t tempt me,” Natasha grumbled. She threw another glare at the manager who was still watching her cautiously as if to make sure she wasn’t going to physically attack him.

Bucky leaned on the table where she was pairing key cards and setting them down on the table in neat rows. Across the room, he spotted Sam and Steve in deep discussion. By the way that Steve’s body was angled, Bucky knew he had spotted the fans taking photos as well.

They were just fans. Nothing worth busting a nut over.

“Don’t you think it’s time to lift the Death Easter watch?” he asked Nat a little hopefully,

“Gross. Clint has you calling it that too. And no,” Nat said, her attention on the rows in front of her. “In fact, here.” She shoved a keycard in his general direction. “You and your bodyguard are having a sleepover.”

Bucky blinked at her. “What?”

“Some of you are going to have to double up, while others will need to triple bunk. Be grateful I didn’t put you in a room with Clint.”

Before Bucky could protest further, Natasha clapped her hands together calling everyone’s attention.

“Come up when I call you,” she announced, sounding way too much like a camp counselor. Bucky filed that away for future teasing.

“Tony with Pepper, Wanda, you’re with me and Okoye. Clint with Bruce,” Natasha handed out cards as she called out names. “Bucky and Steve, Sam with Korg and Thor.”

Bucky avoided looking at Steve when he stepped up to get his copy of the keycard from Natasha.

“Party at Clint and Bruce’s suite!” Tony yelled at everyone in the lobby as soon as Natasha was done. More than a few strangers stopped and stared, including the two fans who now looked like they had just won the lottery.

“What?” Bruce protested, waving his hands to make Tony stop. “No, no, no! Why are you wrecking _our_ room?”

Tony slung an arm around him. “Brucie, you know Pepper would never let me use our room. Take one for the team.”

Bruce looked over at Clint who was grinning at Tony as if it was the greatest idea he’d ever had.

“Anyone wanna switch rooms with me?” Bruce asked forlornly.

Tempting as it sounded, there was no way Nat was going to let him switch. And besides, he had bunked with Clint during their first tour and he had woken up with random doodles all over his body. Bucky wasn’t a light sleeper but Clint was a sneaky fuck.

Which meant he was stuck with Steve for the next two nights. Meaning Bucky should probably apologize for being a jerk.

Depending on how Steve took his apology, everything was either going to be fine or it was going to be an awkward couple of nights.

-

[Image: A series of messages from the Civil War iMessage group chat.

[Chat text:

Tony: Have you guys seen my ID?  
Bucky: Don’t you have half a dozen fakes anyway?  
Wanda: did you check your wallet  
Bruce: You can just yell I’M TONY STARK like you always do  
Tony: None of you are very nice  
Clint: we hav no id no booze rule  
Tony: Fork you barton  
Tony: Siri sucks I’m making a better version  
Tony: Nevermind Pepper found it]


	3. Chapter 3

“I thought for sure some of us would have to stay in the bus. I’m amazed at Natasha’s skill at negotiations,” Thor was saying, as Bucky joined them on the couch.

Clint and Bruce’s suite was packed with people, music blasting from speakers Scott had jerry-rigged while laser lights streamed across the makeshift dance floor. Somewhere the hotel manager was probably nervously awaiting a noise complaint.

“Maria was good but no one says no to Nat,” Bucky said, referring to their old road manager. If he was made to choose Bucky would pick Natasha any day. Even if Maria’s efficient, no nonsense attitude was easy to miss.

Besides, Maria was busy getting SHIELD Academy up and ready. The band had gotten the idea at the start of the year, figured it was something they could do 12 to 18 months down the line. Maria had taken one look at the proposal that was barely a fully formed idea and said she could make it happen by the end of the tour. None of them questioned her.

If there was anyone who could make it happen, it was Maria.

Scott piped in from the other side of Thor. “Sam said Natasha already kicked out a couple of guests who thought that weed didn’t count since it’s legal.”

“They need to hop a couple of states over,” Bucky mumbled even though he knew it wasn’t the legality that concerned Natasha. With both him and Clint on the wagon, she wasn’t going to take any chances.

Bucky took a swig of his soda, grimacing as the too-sweet liquid hit his taste buds. Like a highschooler at a frat party.

He let Scott’s voice fade into the background, playing with the tab of his soda can as he tried to spot Steve in the mess of bodies. Thor had been on Bucky-duty when the crew started to take their luggage to their rooms. He'd brought Steve's duffel bag along when Steve left to lend Sam a hand.

A strange discomfort sat at the bottom of Bucky’s stomach. He definitely did not attribute it to Steve’s absence.

“Hey Steve, you want in?” Scott called out and Bucky’s head whipped around in the direction Scott was looking.

Bucky’s mission was deterred when his eyeline was suddenly blocked by a tall, well-dressed woman who looked far too put together to be around a bunch of dirty, uncultured wannabe musicians.

“You’re not even going to say hello?” Pepper smiled at him, one hand on her hip.

Bucky stood up, grinning widely and gave her a quick hug. He and Tony had their differences, but he and Pepper had known each since they were five and attempting to ditch piano lessons together. Not even Tony could come between that.

She took in his appearance, nodding approvingly. “I like the hair.”

“My stylist came highly recommended.” Bucky said, earning him a laugh from Pepper. She had been the one who suggested he might want a new look for the tour. A new look for a new beginning. Running a hand through his shortened locks, Bucky gave her his most charming smile. “I have to admit, Happy was _nothing_ like I expected.”

“Why are we talking about Happy when he’s not here to defend himself?” Tony asked drunk-loud. He snuggled up to Pepper, looking as happy as a cat who found a perfectly sized box.

Bucky’s smile soured, hackles raising. If Tony was obnoxious sober, he was insufferable drunk.

“Happy would have probably loved to keep taking care of my hair. He gave very specific instructions,” Bucky said, trying to keep the conversation light for Pepper.

“I did ask if he wanted to go on tour with you guys but he says he’s had enough of Tony for a lifetime,” Pepper teased. Bucky knew it was a lie. Happy couldn’t stop waxing poetic about Tony the whole time he was doing Bucky’s hair.

Tony downed the last of his champagne, straightening and looking around as if he expecting someone to come around with a refill. “Chalk it up to the seven-year itch. Some people just lose interest after a while. Just ask Barnesy.”

“Tony!” Pepper admonished, throwing Bucky an apologetic glance.

Bucky gave her a forced reassuring smile. It wasn’t Pepper’s fault she had awful taste in men. Still, his stomach clenched in anger, the desire to punch Tony stupid face almost too much to resist. He was either willfully trying to drive Bucky crazy or he was seriously just that fucking oblivious about the shit coming out of his mouth.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Steve’s voice was suddenly too close, causing Bucky to startle. Talk about finding things you stop looking for them.

Pepper gave him one of her gracious smiles. “Hi, I’m Pepper Potts.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Steve Rogers.”

They shook hands because apparently Pepper and Steve were civilized beings as opposed to the neanderthal Bucky was rapidly devolving into.

“Bucky,” Steve said when he was done with pleasantries. “I think Natasha’s looking for you.”

He wasn’t quite sure what Steve was up to since he just saw Nat leave with Sam, but Bucky wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I’ve been summoned. Later, Virginia.”

“See you tomorrow, James,” Pepper replied, rolling her eyes at the use of her full name. Tony raised his fresh glass of scotch at them in goodbye.

 

_(Sketch of Tony smiling, wearing a green-blue shirt under a jacket and holding a glass of liquor. Two gold rings adorn his fingers.)_

 

Bucky desperately wished him a wicked hangover in the morning.

He let Steve steer him towards the other side of the room. As they moved away, he heard a loud smack followed by Tony’s squawk of protest. Knowing Tony was going to get it from Pepper did nothing for the fire still raging in Bucky’s belly. Neither did the cool evening air that greeted them as they stepped out into the empty balcony.

Above them the full moon shone bright, illuminating everything including them.

“You looked like you needed an out,” Steve said, leaning on the wall next to the balcony door.

Resting his butt and his palms on the balustrade, Bucky was silent for a minute, willing himself to remember why he had been friends with fucking Tony Stark for so long.

He couldn’t shake the part of him that resented that he was an addict and yet Tony, who had tried every drink and drug known to man, had never needed a day of rehab. In the end, it all boiled forn to genetics and Bucky had drawn the losing ticket in that lottery.

“You can say it,” Bucky said finally acknowledging Steve’s presence. “Tony’s an asshole. No one’s going to fire you for speaking your mind.”

“Tony is an asshole,” Steve agreed with a low chuckle. “I know you two are friends but he doesn’t have the right to talk to you like that.”

The conviction in his voice surprised Bucky. Faith in himself and his recovery was an uphill battle. He wished that he had Steve’s apparent faith in Bucky. Steve didn’t know better. Bucky did.

Bucky raised his shoulders in a tired shrug. “He’s allowed.”

“No one should be allowed.” Steve was glaring a little now as if he couldn’t understand why Bucky couldn’t see things his way.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Look, Tony and I, we grew up together, even went to school together. Our parents were business partners. When we started getting into music, my family couldn’t be more supportive. Tony’s dad was different.”

It was the understatement of the century. Howard had indulged Tony’s interest in music in the assumption that Tony would grow out of it. He had been livid when Tony had refused a position at Stark Industries to form the band.

“Most of it is Tony’ story, not mine,” Bucky continued, “but, the day we signed out first contract, his dad cut him off completely. The band’s the only family Tony has. I did a lot of shitty things when I was using, ruined a lot of relationships, including mine and Tony’s, but leaving the band was the worse thing I could do to him. It was like I killed his family.”

Bucky held Steve’s gaze, waiting to see the shift in Steve’s eyes. For most people it was pity, for others it was an invisible step back as if simply being near him could contaminate their perfect lives. Instead, Steve shrugged and said, “Still doesn’t make it right.”

Relief escaped Bucky in a form of a laugh. “Careful, Rogers. Keep sounding like you’re the embodiment of American ideals and I might believe you.”

Steve scoffed. “I don’t know about _America_ , but I’d like to think my Ma taught me a thing or two about being a decent human being.”

Bucky stared at the floor before forcing himself to look at Steve. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I was having a rough couple of days.”

He breathed out a quiet laugh at the expression on Steve’s face. “Doesn’t make it right. So I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven, but there’s something you should know.” Steve pushed off the wall, taking a couple of steps closer. “Fury didn’t just want me as your bodyguard. He asked me to keep an eye on you and to report back to him.”

Bucky closed his eyes, beating back a wave of frustration. Keep an eye on him didn’t mean to make sure rabid fans didn’t get too close. It meant to make sure Bucky wasn’t using again. He wished he was surprised, but Fury was Fury, and as much as Bucky hated his methods, Fury always had the band’s best interest at heart.

Steve moved so that he was next to Bucky on the balustrade. “None of the others were willing to do it and I told him I wasn’t either. You’re doing your best and you deserve a chance to prove that to people.”

Gratitude swelled inside Bucky and he had to force his voice not to crack. ”You’ve all been spending too much time with Sam at the VA.”

“Maybe,” Steve conceded. He knocked his shoulder into Bucky’s. “But if you ever need to talk...”

Bucky leveled him with a mock serious look. “We’re New Yorkers, Steve. We don’t talk about our feelings to strangers. That’s for LA folk.”

The smile Steve gave him warmed Bucky down to his toes. “Good thing I’m great at making friends.”

Bucky grinned back, and for a moment they were two idiots just smiling at each other on a hotel room balcony until a loud crash broke through the atmosphere.

There was a beat of silence.

Followed by a loud cheer.

Bucky groaned and dropped his head into his hand in a reverse facepalm. “Nat is going to kill them. I don’t think we’ve been in a hotel where Clint hasn’t been docked for damages.”

“Luckily, Natasha isn’t around.”

“Where is she anyway? I saw her leave with Sam.”

Bucky left room in his tone of voice for insinuations. Anyone else would have piled on and joked that Nat and Sam had gone off for some alone time complete with air quotes. Steve was apparently too new to know about the ever rotating couples within the tour.

“A couple of fans were getting a little too close for comfort. Sam and I already talked to hotel security and mapped out a couple of contingencies in case they were more—” Steve scrunched his nose. It was cute in a way that had no business being cute considering Steve’s bulk. “In case they were more intense than expected.”

“Stalkers,” Bucky stated, striping Steve’s sentence of its diplomacy.

“Basically.”

Bucky leaned on the balustrade on his elbows, stretching his legs in front of him. “When you were a kid dreaming about protecting God and country, you ever thought you’d end up here? Babysitting some guy from fans who don’t know their boundaries.”

“It’s not so bad. The beds are definitely better,” Steve joked. “Actually I wanted to be an artist when I was a kid.”

“An artist?” Bucky remembered seeing a sketchbook sticking out of his bag when Thor had dropped off Steve’s stuff.

Steve shrugged, leaning on his elbows next to Bucky. “I didn’t have the money to do that so I did the next best thing.”

“Only you would think going to the _army_ would be next best thing to art school.”

“Sometimes, you just know when something feels right.”

Bucky realized Steve’s face was close enough to his that he could count the unfairly long eyelashes casting shadows on Steve’s cheeks.

His heart stuttered, and Bucky had to forcibly remind himself why getting involved with anyone was a bad idea. Especially his bodyguard. Who was Steve. Steve who was gorgeous and kind and could probably bounce Bucky around without breaking a sweat.

The tour was one reason. His ongoing recovery was another. Also, he wasn’t sure what the rules were for bodyguards. Was he allowed to sleep with Steve or was it an unspoken tour rule that they were off limits?

Steve’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and Bucky almost groaned out loud. That was so fucking not fair.

He was saved from making a horrendous ass of himself by the sudden opening of the balcony doors. It revealed Okoye whose face was crumpled up in laughter.

“Steve, I can’t find Sam. Tell him Korg had one too many drinks. I’m taking him back to his room.”

Bucky looked at Steve, his eyes that dazzling Stratocaster blue that used to fill Bucky’s dreams. He knew exactly what he needed to do. Bucky gave himself a push, a tiny one, away from the railing and onto his feet. Steve straightened as well, running a quick hand through his hair.

“I’ll go back with you,” Bucky told Okoye quickly. “You’ll be passing by our room anyway so you can drop me off and Steve can stay and enjoy the party.”

Okoye slung a loose arm over Bucky’s shoulder, thankfully still obviously tipsy and oblivious to the tension between Bucky and Steve.

“First I drop off the White Wolf, then the Rebel Leader. Mission accepted.”

Steve nodded at them, still standing on the balcony, illuminated by the moonlight. “Night, Buck.”

“Night, Steve.”

Bucky didn’t try to stop the small smile that formed on his face as they walked down the hallway.

-

The sound of the shower turning off woke Bucky up from the shallow sleep he had slipped into. Thankfully, he had the foresight to choose the bed farthest from the door. It helped that feigning sleep involved nothing more than closing his eyes and evening out his breathing.

The bathroom door opened and suddenly the room was filled with a familiar scent that Bucky realized was probably Steve’s shower gel. He decided it wasn’t creepy to know what your bodyguard smelled like. Not only did they spend most of the time together, they were also now sharing a room for a couple of nights.

A sound like rustling paper followed by a soft scritching sound made Bucky almost curious enough to let Steve know that he was awake, but what was he supposed to say?

_Hi, I’m sorry I freaked out earlier because I wanted to kiss you but I’m not ready for anything resembling a relationship and I didn’t want to lead you on. By the way you smell really good and no sharing a room isn’t awkward at all._

Definitely not.

Bucky listened to the almost rhythmic noise and realized that it was the sound of a pencil against drawing paper.

Slowly, Bucky allowed himself to fall right back asleep to the sound of Steve’s pencil scratching softly against his sketchbook, wondering what memory Steve was commiting to paper.

-

 

[Image: An Instagram post from user Luci5 with a photo of half-empty bottles of liquor.

Instagram Caption: Luci5 No party like a Civil War party (devil emoji)]

-

[Image: A tweet from user @LisaM with a blurry photo of Bucky in a hoodie, cap and shades.

Tweet caption: Did I just see @BuckyBarnes jogging in my neighborhood? Wild!]

-

Bucky stirred cream and sugar into his coffee grouchily as another group of reporters set up for an interview. The little coffee cart that Pepper had asked to be set-up was a godsend.

Normally he didn’t mind press days. That morning, however, Steve Fucking Rogers decided that waking up at the ass crack of dawn was a good idea. Letting himself be dragged along? That was entirely on him.

“You doing okay there, Bucky?” Steve asked as he reached for a cup of his own. Little shit was enjoying every moment of Bucky’s torture.

“I hate you,” he replied, glaring as Steve laughed, bright and sunny and way too energized.

Bucky didn’t care about Steve’s stupidly charming smile at the moment. All he could think about was revenge.

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted joining that last mile,” Steve said with a faux-innocent smile, as is he hadn’t goaded Bucky into it.

“I hate you,” Bucky repeated, rolling his eyes as Steve laughed again. He made his way back to the adjoining room where the interviews were being held. Everyone was already on the black leather couch. Taking his cue from Pepper, he sat down on the sofa's arms, right next to Wanda.

Next to her, Clint raised an eyebrow at Bucky. “I don’t know what’s happening to your face, Barnes, but I like it.

“Do I have dirt on it or something?” Bucky asked, knowing better than to touch his face. He took a sip of his coffee looking around for Darcy, their stylist. She wasn’t in the room. Steve had moved to the wall by the door, checking people as they came and went. He raised an eyebrow when he caught Bucky looking and Bucky had to fight the blush that threatened to crawl up his neck.

It was a relief that whatever camaraderie they had developed hadn’t been affected by what Bucky had dubbed their “moment in the moonlight”. That would make a great song title. A little cheesy but he could make it work.

Bucky sneaked another sip from his cup when he realized Wanda was watching him with a soft smile on her face.

“What?”

“What Clint is trying to say is you look… _sparkly_.”

Tony leaned closer. “You do look kinda sparkly. Huh.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You know that app filter everyone likes for selfies? Like that,” Bruce said piling on because all his band mates were jerks.

Bucky scowled at all of them. Sparkly. What the hell?

He was saved from more ribbing by Pepper ushering in the next interviewer. She stood with her iPad, taking down notes, and checking the time, ready to call the session to an end before sending in the next one.

The song and dance of press went the way it usually did — Tony and Clint cracked everyone up, Bruce and Wanda gave deep, insightful answers and Bucky gave short charming sound bites.

Finally, Pepper walked in with their last interviewer.

“Michael Sing from C4 news,” the reporter said as soon as the camera started rolling.

“Hey, Mike!” Clint said, obviously on his last burst of energy.

Bucky shifted on the sofa arm, resting his elbow on the back. They were at the last stretch and he couldn’t wait to go back to his room and take a shower.

“Bucky,” the sound of his name snapped him out of his daydream. “Your solo album was a smash hit and yet, after just one album, you decided to get the band back together. Did it have anything to do with your rumored drug addiction?”

The question came so far out of left field Bucky couldn’t think of a single response. He sensed, more than saw, everyone in the room tense up.

“Hey, man—” Clint started but the reporter ignored him.

“Is that true? Can we talk about that part of your journey?”

“I, um—” he stuttered, unable to put together the words he needed to say. He and Pepper had rehearsed them a long time ago, back when every other question he was asked was about the split, but god _why_ couldn’t he speak?

Bucky wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. The lights were way too bright. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce stand up.

“Who is this guy trying to be Diane Sawyer?” Tony growled at one of the assistants. “You, where’s Pepper?”

It was the first time any of them realized that Pepper wasn’t in the room.

“Tony,” Mike shifted, his clasped hands pointed at Tony. “You were the most vocal out of everyone about your feelings after the split. How has it been for you since Bucky came back?”

There was a sound of a door opening and, suddenly, Pepper was holding her iPad in front of the camera, Bruce following right behind her.

“Mr. Sing, I’m afraid your interview is over,” Pepper’s mouth was smiling, but her eyes were livid. Bucky felt a small comfort that this guy was never going to do an interview with them again.

Bucky’s head was spinning. He vaguely registered seeing an angry-looking Steve escorting the reporter out of the room followed by the feeling of Pepper’s hand holding his.

“Oh god, James, I am so sorry. I had to take a phone call and I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Wanda assured her. She placed a hand on Bucky’s thigh. “Are you okay?”

Bucky blinked and forced his lips into a smile. “Yeah. That was the last one right?”

Clint and Tony shared a look that Bucky chose to ignore.

Pepper nodded. “Natasha made dinner reservations but I can tell her you’re not up to it.”

“Nah, I just need to go wash some of this stuff off my face and then we can get out of here.”

Bucky stood up, ordered his knees not to shake, and walked as normally as he could to the  bathroom. The moment the door closed, he rushed to the toilet and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky wrapped his towel loosely around his hips, skipping his usual grooming routine in favor of leaving his hair to air dry. Darcy was going to redo it later anyway, and after yesterday’s clusterfuck, he was in no rush to show his face.

Even a call to Dum Dum ( _How bad?_ 6\. _Staying sober?_ Still a 10) and Nat’s joking offer (at least Bucky assumed she was joking) to place a hit on the reporter did little to shake off the heavy fog that surrounded him.

Thankfully, even Steve had taken the hint and given him a little privacy by hanging out in Sam’s room across the hall.

Bucky dressed slowly after pulling out an old, but still clean, band shirt and worn jeans from his luggage. He had five hours to kill before they had to leave for soundcheck and he intended to spend every minute of it on his own.

He channel-surfed from his bed, enjoying the mindless of the task. A knock on the door made him stop on a rerun of _We Are Bare Bears_.

Bucky considered ignoring it, hoping it was just an errant housekeeper, but he would bet it was Nat checking up on him again.

Fortunately for Bucky, the NA didn’t allow gambling because it wasn’t Nat at the door but Steve.

“Did you forget your keys?” Bucky asked as he let Steve in. He settled on the floor moving slightly so that he wasn’t leaning on the wet patch on the comforter where his wet hair had dripped.

On the TV, the Bare Bears had been replaced by some blob of a cartoon that Bucky couldn’t identify.

He didn’t notice that Steve was carrying a large paper bag until he was standing in between the TV and Bucky.

“Feel free to tell me it’s none of my business, but you haven’t eaten since yesterday, and even then, you barely touched your dinner. So I brought you chow.” Steve frowned at him, one hand on his waist, and looking like he was ready to throw down if Bucky refused.

It was sweet in a bossy kind of way.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at him. “You are taking this babysitting gig _way_ too seriously.”

Steve’s cheeks tinged pink, as if embarrassed to admit that he had been watching Bucky that closely. “Well, Natasha did say I had to keep you alive until the end of the tour.”

“Always a good little soldier.” The face that Steve made coupled with his ‘ehhhh’ made Bucky laugh. ”All right, what’ve you got there?”

Grinning, Steve thrust the bag at Bucky. “A couple of classic cheesesteaks, fries and milkshakes.”

Bucky accepted the bag, grunting at its weight. “Come down here we’re having a picnic.”

-

“If I don’t fit in my pants later, I’m blaming you.” Bucky wrinkled his nose at the last couple of fries Steve was offering him.

Steve shrugged and shoved the fries into his mouth. “It’s not my fault you rockstars like to wear such tight pants,” he said after he swallowed.

“Are you flirting with me, Rogers?” Bucky winked at Steve as he sucked on the last of his milkshake.

 

_(A sketch of Bucky drinking his milkshake, striped yellow cup in his left hand and green and pink straw between his teeth.)_

 

The tips of Steve’s ears flushed even as he cocked an eyebrow at Bucky. “Let me just make sure that’s allowed in my contract and I’ll get back to you.”

Bucky laughed as he crumpled their leftovers in a ball. “As long as you’re willing to go through the hell of dating someone in the limelight.”

“I thought dating musicians was supposed to be about getting into concerts for free?”

“It is. And sex and the fame and the drama that goes with it. Wasn’t that obvious yesterday?”

Steve gave him a long look before saying in a quietly furious voice. “That guy was deserved more than just getting kicked out.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that people are never going to let you forget your past.”

Bucky was grateful for his second chances, couldn’t express how it would have destroyed him to completely lose his friends, his family. Still, there were times when he wished it was easier to move forward.

“I may not know what happened but I know you’re no longer the guy he was talking about,” Steve said, his voice firm with misplaced faith in Bucky.

Bucky forced the lightness in his tone. “That’s it. I’m calling my congressman. How dare you not get celebrity news in the desert?”

“We did, but I don’t think anyone in my unit were fans of yours,” Steve teased back.

He threw a balled up wrapper at Steve’s face for that. “Well, you should do some Googling before you decide if my honor needs saving.”

Steve caught the wrapper and stuffed it into the bag of trash next to him. “The only thing that reporter proved was that people have agendas and those agendas taint the news they write. If I’m going to listen to anyone’s version, it’s going to be yours.”

“You sure you wanna hear this story?”

“You don’t have to,” Steve said, putting a hand on Bucky’s knee for a brief second. It was long enough that Bucky could feel the heat of Steve’s palm through the denim. “All I’m saying is I trust you.”

Damn, Steve Rogers and his stupidly earnest eyes. It made Bucky’s throat close up and he had to stare at the ceiling for a second to calm down.

“We were on our second tour,” he said, still unable to look at Steve. “Almost four years of being stuck in recording studios, touring, doing press. We were riding the wave and there was no time to stop. I didn’t realize how bad I was coping with it until— I wasn’t.”

Bucky played with the straw inside his empty cup, trying to come up with words to explain the part other people always had trouble grasping.

“I come from a massive family. One of those families who have reunions in parks where you’re forced to hang out with an uncle or cousin you’ve never met before and will probably never talk to until the next reunion. I had no time for anything that wasn't Civil War. These guys, the band and the crew, they’re my family too but—“

He stopped unsure of how make it clear that the band mattered, but Mom, Pop, Becca, and the twins — they were first. They'd known him before he even picked up his first guitar.

“It’s, like, there are different kind of families, but when you really need it, there’s nothing like a hug from your mom,” Steve finished for him.

Gratitude burst inside him at how easily Steve seemed to understand. Bucky finally lowered his eyes from the ceiling to look at Steve. “You must be close with yours.”

“We were.” The sadness etched on his face was enough to let Bucky know she had passed.

“I’m sorry.”

“A different story for a different time.” Steve looked down at his hands before looking back up at Bucky obviously not wanting to linger on the subject. “So what happened after that?”

“There was this guy,” Bucky began again slowly. There were parts of the story he hadn’t shared with his friends, not even Nat. Parts that would make some of his choices, both right and wrong, easier to understand if he could make himself talk about them.

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“God, no.” Bucky gave Steve the most disgusted face he could muster. It startled a laugh from Steve, the warm, rich sound easing the tightness in Bucky’s throat.

“Rumlow used to come in during recording sessions when we needed an extra guitarist. On our second tour, I had a nasty fall and dislocated my arm.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Stage diving accident?”

Bucky flicked the straw he had been playing with at Steve causing a couple of droplets of strawberry milkshake to land on him.

“More like a fan pulled me a little too hard,” he said as Steve, guiltily rummaging for a clean napkin amongst their debris.

“Remind me to ask for a raise in my hazard pay.” Steve took the napkin Bucky offered, wiping away the pink droplets. “And dry cleaning allowance too.”

“I’ll make sure to get you a Tide pen during our next stop.”

Steve laughed as he finished dabbing at the spots. “So this Rumlow. He went on tour with you?”

“Yeah. Between the mess in my head and the painkillers I was on, it was easy to say yes to Rumlow’s stash of weed, the occasional Molly. Next thing I knew, I was shooting up whatever was handed to me. When Rumlow and Pierce, his manager, started talking about going solo, it just made perfect sense at the time.”

“They _had_ to know they were taking advantage of you,” Steve said, looking angry on Bucky’s behalf.

“They knew. They just didn’t care. I was lucky. If a friend hadn’t stepped in —” Bucky paused, remembering articles that mentioned him as a future member of 'the 27 Club'. He would never be able to repay T'Challa's kindness. “Anyway, like I said, I was lucky I found a way out. Working to stay sober, that was all me.”  
  
Bucky didn’t attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice as he continued. “Journalists, like that creep yesterday,” they don’t want to hear about all that. It’s not what gets them clicks and views. When no one wants my past to stay in the past, it’s hard to believe that I can really change.”

He didn’t look at Steve, choosing to clean up the remnants of their meal instead. Frustration rolled off him in waves but there was nothing either of them could do for it.

Once all the trash was packed away, they both sat back down on the floor. This time Steve scooched over so that he was right next to Bucky.

Steve tapped his phone on his leg. “I’m going to show you something. I’ve never shown this to anyone who didn’t know me before I hit puberty.”

“Okay...” Bucky said, eyeing Steve suspiciously.

Unlocking his phone, Steve swiped through his photo album before stopping and handing his phone to Bucky.

It was a photo of a kid that looked about fifteen or sixteen. All bird bones, and pointy edges. His size didn’t seem to deter him, the stubborn set of his jaw just raring for a fight.

“Is he your little brother or something?” Bucky looked up at Steve then back to the photo.

They were nearly identical. From the eyes to the nose to the bullheaded expression. This wasn’t someone else. This was Steve. “Oh my god. Is this you?”

Bucky stared down at the photo again. Everything about the photo screamed Steve. He was even wearing a too big army jacket that had a rainbow pin attached to the lapel and a series of other lgbt themed buttons. It was so fucking adorable Bucky knew he was smiling at Steve’s phone like a loon.

“You didn’t laugh,” Steve said, the set of his jaw softening as he looked at Bucky.

He handed the phone back to Steve. “Why the hell would I laugh? Any more shots of little Stevie in there?” He didn’t mention why he wanted to see more photos. Admitting that he thought teenage Steve was cute might be too much for current Steve.

“Your sad little rockstar story only gets you one.” Steve raised a finger up to Bucky’s face.

Bucky grabbed it, keeping Steve’s hand in his. “Fine. I do have a question though: those buttons? Really?”

Steve hung his head as he let out a self-deprecating laugh. “My point was that people change. I wasn’t trying to show-off my bad fashion choices.”

“Yeah, well, you have changed a lot, pal. I can’t imagine being your size and gay in high school.”

“Bisexual,” Steve corrected. “My mom used to tell me ‘the people who matter won’t mind and the people who mind shouldn’t matter’, but then I joined the army and even without “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” it was hard.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. It was different in the music industry. People _expected_ scandalous behaviour. They didn’t care if he dated men or women as long as the magazines had something to talk about. “Are you trying to tell me that I should be grateful all I have to care about is bad press and not having myself blown up in a strange country?”

“Nah. You have a death threat hanging over your head and right now a group of teenage girls hanging outside the hotel waiting for you to come out and say hello. I think I’d take the army any day.”

“You’re a punk.”

Steve grinned but didn’t object to the insult.

It made Bucky’s stomach spin and settle into an unfamiliar warmth that was radiating from where Steve’s hand was still tucked under his.

-

[Image: A series of messages from the Barnes Family iMessage group chat:

[Text:

Thing 1: Bex, I told you to buy soft taco shells  
Becca Bug: SOFT TACOS R 4 D WEAK  
Thing 1: What do you care I’m the one eating them!!  
Bucky: I love you, guys. Despite Liz’s gross taco preference  
Fred Flinstone: How are you, darling? Taco Tuesdays aren’t the same without you.  
Thing 2: Awww, Bucky. Now she’s crying on the taco ingredients  
Fred Flintstone: I am not!  
Thing 1: At least I’ll get my soft tacos now  
Becca Bug: SOFT TACOS R 4 D WEAK  
Fred Flintstone: Oh stop it, you two.  
Fred Flintstone: We miss you, James. And I am not crying.  
Curious George: She really is.  
Curious George: Purely because of the onions, of course.

-

Two concerts scheduled back to back meant the band had little time to care about the newscycle. Bucky loved it. He could focus on the tour and not have to worry about the glances people were throwing his way.

-

[Image: A YouTube video of Bucky's interview.

Video title: Bucky Barnes full interview: Star chokes up when asked about his past.

Comment text:

BP Barnes  
YOU UTTER DOUCHE CANOE I HOPE YOUR CAREER FUCKING TANKS AND YOU STEP ON WET SHIT EVERY TIME YOU HAVE NEW SHOES ON]

-

 _""If you're just joining us, this is Trish Talk. We're talking about the recent uptick of support celebrities have been giving their charities. A fad that will fade away, or is this penchant for philanthropy here to stay? Our most recent guests, Civil War, has pledged the proceeds of this weekend's Michigan concert to local charities._ _This announcement was made a week before their scheduled concert in Detroit, which had already sold out months ago so our more cynical listeners can rest assured it's not a stunt. In fact, Civil War  is no stranger to acts of charity. Their current tour, Homecoming, will culminate in a music camp/fund-raising event in Malibu, California...."_

-

[Image: An Instagram post with a photo of the festival line-up for the Chicago Rock Fest.

Caption text: ChiRockFest We’ve got the best of the best and a surprise new addition to our line-up! Any guesses who it’ll be?]

-

“Hey, stranger,” Natasha greeted him.

Bucky help up a finger, wanting to finish jotting down the lyrics that were bouncing around in his head. He scratched out a couple of lines and replaced them with new ones.

_Keep telling me that it gets better / Does it ever?_

Tour life was not very conducive to music writing but, for some reason, Bucky’s muse was suddenly busting his balls with inspiration.

Bucky put the pen down, satisfied with what he hoped would eventually become a good song. He blinked a couple of times, finally noticing his road manager.  
  
Natasha had stretched out next to him, her back resting on the wall of the bus, legs crossed at the ankles..

“Oh I’m worthy of your attention now?”

“Genius waits for no man or woman.”

A loud chorus of laughter drew their attention to the front of the bus where Clint, Tony, Wanda, Steve, and Sam were playing Cards Against Humanity.

Steve had apparently won the round, grinning brightly as he scooped up the black card.

In the past week, Bucky had learned a lot about Steve Rogers. Such as he was a shark at cards. No matter what kind.

Still smiling, Bucky turned back to his pile of scribbles and saw that Natasha was studying him, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“What?” Bucky started sorting out his pile, deliberately refusing to look Natasha in the eye. “Stop. I know what you’re thinking and what you’re thinking is wrong.”

Her continued silence prickled at Bucky and she damn well knew it.

“Just because I can, doesn’t mean I’m gonna.”

Natasha just raised her eyebrow a bare millimeter higher.

Bucky considered staring her down, but he knew that was a lost cause. “I’m just appreciating the view,” he mumbled.

Satisfied as a cat who ate the canary, its whole family, and the neighbors dog. She gave his boots a kick.

“Uh-huh. I’m leaving it up to Sam if he wants to switch up the assignments seeing as you and Steve are set on being Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner.”

“Appropriate I’m Whitney in this scenario,” Bucky deadpanned. “You do what you need to do, you know where I’m at.”

“Didn’t you just have a _big_ annual milestone party before the tour started that meant you could if you wanted?”

He rolled his eyes at the exaggeration. There had been cake and ice cream. Barely a party. Dum Dum had insisted they couldn’t let two years of sobriety pass without a celebration.

“That doesn’t mean I’m jumping into the sack with the first available guy. I think that’s what NA would consider ‘potentially self-destructive behavior’.”

Natasha sighed. “Speaking of destructive men, I’m just going to come out and say this because I know you’re a rip off the band aid off kind of guy. You’re a masochist.”

It was Bucky’s turn to raise an eyebrow after hearing the Nat equivalent of rambling. Natasha did not ramble.

She looked him squarely in the eye. “Hydra’s going to be in the Chicago Rock Fest. Fury just told me. They’re getting ready to announce it.”

A cold sweat broke out across Bucky’s skin. Hydra was Rumlow’s band. Last time he had seen Rumlow, he had helpfully pushed Bucky off the wagon leading to his second stint in rehab.

“You going to be okay?” Natasha’s finger tapped a slow beat on the inside of his wrist. Bucky didn’t even notice that his breathing was following the rhythm she was making.

He scoffed lightly. “Do I have a choice?”

She stared at him, completely serious. “One word and I pull us from this gig.”

“The band—”

“—will understand.”

 _But I don’t want them to have to._ The thought bulleted through Bucky. How many times was he going to be allowed to let them down?

“It’s been years, Nat. I have to face them sometime. You know how small the music industry is.”

Natasha laid her head on his shoulder but didn’t say another word. In another world, it would have been and Natasha onstage. They had their chance. The Red Room had been a one-hit wonder that neither of them regretted leaving.

Coincidentally, Lukin Productions had been the same label that had produced his Winter Soldier album. No surprise why that ended disastrously.

“You ever miss it?” he asked.

Natasha was silent for the briefest of seconds. “The music? Hell yeah. The act? Not so much.”

Bucky tugged at a lock of Natasha’s red hair affectionately. “Fury did good getting you this job.”

She shook against him as she chuckled. “It was Clint’s idea actually.”

“Barton had a good idea that didn’t end up with something exploding? Who knew.”

“You’re going to be okay, Barnes.” Natasha promised him.

Not for the first time, Bucky wished that kind of faith came easily for him.

-

[Image: Screenshot of an Instagram post showing a photo of the Hydra logo in the Chicago Rock Fest template.

Caption text: ChiRockFest: Welcome Hydra to the Chicago Rock Festival! #HailHydra]

-

Bucky laid in the dark for an hour before accepting that he wasn’t going to get any sleep. Thoughts of Brock and Pierce were like a loud metallic screeching in his head drowning out everything else.

He didn’t want to tell Natasha that the idea of facing Rumlow and Pierce had really shaken him. Bucky had called Dum Dum. One full minute of Dum Dum cursing Rumlow and Pierce out later, he asked Bucky if doing the concert was worth it.

“When have I ever been sure of anything,” Bucky had joked.

“One to ten then, how badly do you want to do the festival?”

“Eight.”

“How badly do you want a hit at the thought of those scumbags.”

Bucky had considered the question for a moment before answering with an honest “Six”.

Dum Dum had sighed, then said, “You’re a piece of work, Barnes. Take care of yourself and call me when you need it. Not a second before.”

His answer hadn’t changed. His need to prove to himself that he could survive the tour still outweighed his need for escape. The news just made it a little bit harder.

Turning on his side, Bucky sighed at the empty space between his bed and the door.

It didn’t help that he kept expecting Steve to be sleeping in the same room. After their Pittsburgh and Detroit gigs plus staying on the bus all those nights, Bucky's first reaction to the king size bed wasn't relief but confusion. He had completely forgotten he wasn’t sharing a room with Steve anymore. Steve and Sam were staying at the connecting room instead.

Bucky sat up, picked up the hotel stationary, and tried to come up with words to the melody that Wanda had been humming the other day. It was slower than their usual fare but something drew Bucky to it.

Another half hour and all he had was page after page full of badly drawn stick figures.

What he needed was a walk to clear his head.

Fury was going to kill him if he found out Bucky left unaccompanied but there was no way he was waking up Steve. Grabbing the old pair of trainers he had used when he and Steve went on a run, Bucky dropped them next to his bed and started changing into sweats and an old hoodie. He had just finished tying his shoelaces when there was a soft knock from the door that connected his room with Steve and Sam’s.

Bucky opened the door to find Steve, holding the door from the other side open, looking bed rumpled in a tight white shirt and loose jogging pants that were riding low on his hips. A small strip of skin was peeking through the gap between his shirt and his pants.

Other less wholesome thoughts on how he could distract himself popped into Bucky’s mind unbidden.

“You going somewhere?”

Bucky snapped his gaze up to Steve who was frowning at what was definitely not Bucky’s sleepwear.

“Um, yeah. I was thinking of going for a walk.”

The frown on Steve’s face deepened. “Not without me you’re not. Give me a sec.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but Steve was already rummaging through his luggage for a sweater and shoving his already socked feet into his running shoes.

Sam was sleeping soundly despite the noise Steve was making. It wasn’t anything new, Sam always could sleep like a log in any situation.

Steve huffed a soft disgruntled exhale. “I can’t find my keycard.”

Resigned to having a chaperone, Bucky tilted his head towards his room. “Don’t worry about it, you can pass through here later.”

Chicago had settled down in the wee hours of the night. Even the wind that had greeted them upon their arrival was down to a light breeze.

“Do you usually take secret walks in the middle of the night?” Steve asked, much more awake than he had been when they first stepped out of the hotel. “No wonder they wanted someone to watch you.”

“Nah, this is a special activity I thought of when I found out that I had _Captain America_ protecting me.” Bucky grinned when the nickname finally registered with Steve.

“Who told you?” Steve groaned.

“If you don’t know that means it could have been more than one person. How many people know your secret identity?”

“I’m not telling if you’re not telling,” Steve said, bumping his shoulder against Bucky’s.

“Let’s just say a little bird told me.”

“Sam!” Steve yelped, guessing correctly on the first try. “I knew it. Just for that I’m finding out a secret of his and telling the whole crew.”

Bucky wrapped his hoodie around him tighter as a particularly chilly wind blew past. Beside him, Steve seemed unreasonably comfortable in his thin sweater.

“Okay, I’m only telling you ‘cause he doesn’t know that I know: when he was a kid Sam used to think he could talk to birds. That’s why his unit called him Falcon.”

The mischievous smile that bloomed on Steve’s face was well worth throwing Sam under the bus.

“Do _you_ have any unusual nicknames?”

A street light flickered  as they passed under. As if on instinct Steve walked closer to Bucky.

“Bucky isn’t strange enough for you?”

“No stranger than Winter Soldier.”

Bucky bumped his shoulder against Steve’s. “So you did Google me.”

“It was in your file.”

“I have a file?”

“Everyone does.”

Peering at Steve in the low light, Bucky shook his head. “You’re fucking with me aren’t you?”

“Sorry, I can’t reveal state secrets,” Steve replied, his face as neutral as the day he sharked Tony at poker.

They turned a corner and Bucky didn’t realize that his feet were taking him to a specific destination until the stadium they were going to be performing in loomed over them in the dark.

“Doing reconnaissance?” Steve asked.

Of course he and the others had been briefed about what to expect. Rumlow wasn’t going to get physical, but he also wasn’t one to miss an opportunity for a cheap shot. Bucky’s bodyguard needed to know that.

“Something like that.”

It was stupid but he felt better after seeing the venue. Their last gig in Chicago had been at a different place and not knowing what it looked like was adding to his apprehension.

They stopped on the street across from the entrance.

“You think they’d let us in at this hour if I asked very, very nicely?”

“We could always just break in.”

Bucky laughed. “I’m sure _that_ would go down well with Nat and Fury.”

“Who said they had to know?” Steve was examining their surroundings as if actually trying to case the joint.

Afraid that Steve would actually talk him into his crazy idea, Bucky laughed, and pulled Steve back the way they came.

“Were you planning to scale the walls are something?”

“Of course not.” Steve looked offended at the suggestion. “I know how to pick a lock.”

The smile on Bucky’s face was so wide and warm he no longer felt like his nose was going to freeze off. “Jesus, Stevie. I don’t know how Sam thought you’d make a good bodyguard. You’re the one who needs supervision.”

Steve ducked his head, the tips of his ears turning pink. Maybe the cold was finally getting to him.

“Rules were _made_ to be broken,” Steve said seriously although mischief twinkled in his eyes.

“Says the guy who signed up for years of orders and discipline. How did you even get promoted to Captain with that attitude?”

“You know, I’m not sure.”

Bucky found himself enjoying Steve’s company so much he was almost disappointed when they reached the hotel. Although being inside his nice, warm hotel room was much better than the chilly Chicago air. He shivered once more.

“You don’t like the cold, do you?” Steve observed.

“Not unless it’s a New York winter.”

“Do you mind?” Steve asked, as he moved closer.

Unsure what he meant, but trusting Steve completely, Bucky nodded.

Steve wrapped him in a hug, moving slowly as if to give Bucky the chance to pull away if he wanted. Their almost identical heights allowed Bucky to rest his chin on Steve’s shoulder. The warmth of the embrace spreading through him, from the fingers wrapped around Steve’s back down to his toes.

The hug went on for less than a minute before they were both pulling away. Bucky immediately regretted the loss.

Steve’s hand stayed on Bucky’s arm until he finally let it drop. “I’m— gonna go. If you need anything, you can wake me up. I’ll keep the door unlocked for you.”

It was a small gesture that threatened to overwhelm Bucky with its thoughtfulness.

Steve headed to the connecting doors and stopped, one hand on the doorknob. He looked back at Bucky, an almost shy smile on his face that reminded Bucky of sweet sticky cones of cotton candy on Coney Island. “Night, Buck.”

As Bucky watch the door close after Steve, he had a vivid mental image of swooning against the door like an old-timey dame after a date which he resolutely pushed away.

If that was the kind of things his mind was coming up with, he really did need to get some sleep.

-

Bucky got a reprieve during the first night of the Festival.

His luck ran out on the second night.

“Look at that. Gang’s all here.” Rumlow walked up to where they were packing their gear, looking about as innocent as a malicious rodent.

Bucky didn’t know whether he wanted to deck him or throw up.

“Just like old days. Your music even sounds _exactly_ like it used to. I guess nothing’s changed there,” Rumlow sneered.

Clint leveled him with a glare but Rumlow was looking past him and straight at Bucky.

Rumlow’s eyes on him felt oily and slick, sneaking into the crevices that housed Bucky’s insecurities. He knew all of Bucky’s secrets. What to say to push Bucky’s buttons after years of doing just that.

Bucky hated himself for being so weak.

“Fuck off, Rumlow.”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Rumlow tilted his head and spread his arms wide. “You’re not going to give me a hug for old time’s sake? C’mon, Barnes, I have something in my room I’m sure you’re absolutely dying for.”

A shudder went through him at Rumlow’s leer.

Steve took a step and, for a moment, Bucky thought he was going to get in Rumlow’s face. He felt a warm, comforting hand on the small of his back at the same time that Wanda stepped in front of him protectively. The thought of tiny Wanda facing off with Rumlow would have been hysterical if it wasn’t so sweet.

He was surrounded on all sides: Wanda and Clint in front of him, Steve on his right, and to his left, stood Tony, surprisingly silent. Bruce, who had been at the tail end of their group as they exited the stage, moved forward and stepped up to Rumlow.

Bucky expected him to politely ask Rumlow to move away. None of them expected the strength with which Bruce drew back his arm, and punched Rumlow right in the nose.

-

“Holy shit! He punched him,” Tony yelled as they entered the bus, a fuming Natasha right at their heels.

“Tony, shut up. Bruce how’s your hand?”

“I’m fine,” Bruce assured her. “I know enough about human physiology not to hit bone.”

“And you used that knowledge to punch Rumlow in the face!” Tony crowed, practically bouncing off the walls. “Did you see that? Bruce _punched_ him! Oh my God!”

“We were all there, Tony,” Wanda reminded him, although Bucky could easily detect the tone of amusement in her voice.

Clint clamped a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You should have been there, Nat. It was epic.”

“Because Brucey Banner over there,” Tony declared pointing at Bruce. “Punched that Yoko Ono wannabe. On. The. Nose.”

“I swear to God if someone doesn’t shut him up, _I’m_ going to punch him on the nose,” Natasha growled. She stalked to where Steve and Bucky were standing, away from all the crazy.

“What the fuck happened?”

Bucky laughed weakly. Adrenaline was still pumping through his system, both from seeing Rumlow and the events that happened after. “Exactly what Tony said. Bruce punched Rumlow on the nose. Honestly, there’s nothing else to the story. Bruce just kinda hulked out.”

“Seriously, Bruce, man. Are you okay?” Bucky asked, peering over Natasha to look at Bruce.

“I might be in a little shock, but I’m pretty sure that slimeball deserved it. We have your back.”

Bucky gave Bruce a small, grateful smile. They didn’t know everything but they knew enough.

Natasha glared at Bucky, then at Steve as if Steve should have guessed what was going to happen. Who would’ve thought Bruce, whose only modes were dorky or nerdy, could even throw a punch.

Apparently Natasha also realized how irrational her line of thinking was because she stopped glaring at Steve and went back to Bruce. She ordered him to the infirmary with both Clint and Tony trailing out of the bus behind them.

The sudden silence allowed Bucky to take stock of everything that just happened.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, giving him a searching look.

“Yeah,” Bucky said shaking off Steve’s concern. “Bruce punched Rumlow. I’m great.”

-

[Image: The TMZ website's post of a video. The screencap shows Brock doubled-over. A red rectangle bearing the word EXCLUSIVE is on the upper left side of the screencap.

Headline text: BRUCE BANNER in actual Civil War… JUMPS BROCK RUMLOW IN BACKSTAGE SCUFFLE]

-

[Image: An Instagram post from user GBatROCKS showing two screenshots of an article about the concert from the website Hollywood Reporter. The article has a photo of Bucky from his Winter Soldier days. He’s playing a guitar, a rainbow bracelet on his wrist.

Article Text: “It’s obvious now that it’s Barnes’ genius that’s holding the band up. If Barnes had continued his solo career under the guidance of his then mentor, Alexander Pierce, he would surely have become a far greater musician than he ever could with this mediocre band.

  //Quoted Text: “If Barnes had continued his solo career under the guidance of his then mentor, Alexander Pierce, he would surely have become a far greater musician…”//

Banner’s delinquency aside, the lackluster tour also shows that, aside from Barnes, Civil War has little talent to showcase. If not for the connections which stem from their privileged upbringing (Stark’s father is renowned billionaire-engineer Howard Stark; Banner’s family can be traced back to the Mayflower while their keyboardist is rumored to be descended from European royalty), they might not have reached

Instagram Caption Text: GBatROCKS We stand with @BuckyBarnes. Free Bucky! Bucky is innocent! #WintersChildren.

Response from user SoSassyHL: wtf are you talking about? He chose to go back because he loves these guys and this article is bullshit.

Response from user GBatROCKS: @SoSassyHL Blocked. Whoops.

Response from user CrossMeOut Petition for a new solo album for @BuckyBarnes? Who’s with me?]


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky was not great.

Sure, he had a shaky video of Rumlow getting clocked that he could play again and again when he needed cheering up.

On the other hand, he was still a member of the Insomnia Club alongside Clint and Tony.

Sleeping in his coffin-like bunk for the past week meant he was averaging four hours per night. Not to mention, five gigs in five cities in that many days. Far from ideal.

Arriving at Florida with photoshoots and interviews scheduled before their concerts meant a week’s sleep on actual beds, but it was their second night there and he had yet to get a full night’s sleep.

Sleeping in his coffin-like bunk for the past week meant he was averaging four hours per night. Not to mention, five gigs in five cities in that many days. Far from ideal.  
  
Arriving in Florida with photoshoots and interviews scheduled before their concerts meant a week’s sleep on actual beds. They were already two days in for their 5-day Florida schedule and he had yet to get a full night's sleep.

Palming his phone, Bucky considered calling Dum Dum. He scowled when he saw the time. How many times could he call Dum Dum in the middle of the night before he blocked Bucky’s number? Dum Dum was his sponsor not his therapist.

Besides, he knew what Dum Dum was going to say: “What are you doing reading those fucking articles anyway? They’re bullshit. You know it and I know it.”

Trouble was fully squashing his self-doubt was something Bucky was still learning to do. Returning to the band was the best decision for _him_. He was sure of that. But what about the rest of the band? Did they deserve having Bucky’s past always trailing behind them?

He shook away the thoughts, getting up to do some push ups to tire himself out. When that didn’t work, he plopped back down on his bed. Maybe cartoons would help.

Bucky barely switched through two channels when a soft knock came from the adjoining door. He opened the door, remote control in one hand, ready to shoo whoever it was away.  
  
Steve stood, half-leaning against the doorway, eyes bleary with sleep. He was clutching a pillow. This time the loose jogging pants riding low on his hips was paired with a sleeveless undershirt that showed off more of Steve’s skin that Bucky had ever seen.

Bucky swallowed, his mouth suddenly gone dry. “Hi?”

“Some people sleep better when there’s someone nearby sleeping too. Back on the bus, I noticed you slept better when Clint was snoring in the bunk across from yours,” Steve explained as he sleepily welcomed himself into Bucky’s room.

Bucky blinked at him. What else was he supposed to do when a six foot adonis declared he was sleeping with you?.

Steve dropped his pillow on the suite’s couch and Bucky realized what he was planning to do.

“Hey, no.” Bucky took the pillow from him and then Steve was the one who was blinking at him, confused. “If you’re sleeping here. Might as well sleep on the bed. It’s big enough for two.”

“Are you sure?”

No, he wasn't sure, but he really didn't care.  
  
Last time he'd had anyone in his bed had been two years ago. Now, Bucky was running on almost no sleep and it was the middle of the night. Perfect time to make questionable decisions.

“Not gonna let you sleep on the couch, pal, that’s for sure. It’d be the same as switching rooms. I’m sure Sam’s snoring can’t be worse than yours.”

“I don’t snore,” Steve protested.

“Sure, bud.”

Hesitant, but seemingly too sleepy to continue the argument, Steve took the right side of the bed leaving Bucky ample space to his left.

Shaking his head at the strange turn of events, Bucky slipped under the comforter and turned down the volume on the TV.

Less than fifteen minutes later, they were both fast asleep.

-

Bucky startled awake at the ringing of the hotel phone. He groped for it blindly, barely registering the muted sunlight that was streaming under the thick curtains.

“Mr. Barnes, this is your 6 a.m. wake up call,” a courteous yet flat voice informed him.

“Yeah, um, thanks,” Bucky placed the phone back on its cradle. He fell back down on the bed, the tangled comforter trapped underneath his stomach. There was a huff and then, the fabric was pulled from under him.

Turning his head, he winked sleepily at Steve who had seemed to take offense at Bucky hogging the blankets. In the low light, he was able to make out a soft smile on Steve’s lips, returning it with one of his own.

“Good morning,” Bucky said quietly.

“Morning,” Steve replied. The low timbre of Steve’s voice, still raspy from sleep sent shivers down his spine.

Bucky was pondering how easy it would be to reach out and wrap his arms around Steve, pull him close and press his face into Steve’s chest when, suddenly Steve sat up and looked around confused.

A dozen emotions passed through Steve’s face before settling on mortified embarrassment. Completely awake now, Steve scrambled to his feet. He grimaced, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I bulldozed my way into your room last night.”

“Kinda, yeah.” Bucky laughed, trying to figure out what Steve was thinking. “You’re bossy even when you’re half-asleep.”

Blushing a deep red, Steve stuttered, “God, Buck, I’m sorry. I could hear you moving around and I thought it would help.”

“It did help, so no reason to be sorry.” Bucky shrugged, his arms trapped safely around the pillow under his head. If he had free use of his arms, he might do something stupid. Like pull Steve back down into bed.

“I’ll get out of your hair. So you can get ready.” Steve gave him an awkward wave before escaping back to his hotel room.

Bucky pulled the blankets over his head, groaning when the smell of Steve’s shower gel still lingering in the hotel sheets surrounded him. What the hell was he doing? He hadn’t dated anyone since even before he checked himself into rehab the second time. Hadn’t thought of anyone in that capacity for almost just as long. Yet somehow all sorts of ideas popped in his head whenever Steve was around.

He thanked every god he knew of that other things hadn’t popped up while Steve was in his bed.

Was he supposed to tell Dum Dum about any of this? He really hoped not. Dum Dum didn’t care who Bucky dated, but listening to Bucky’s _feelings_ about someone would probably end up with more teasing and no advice given.

Sighing, he shook off the blankets and forced himself to get up.

It wasn’t a problem unless _he made it one_. He just needed to keep his hands to himself. Even if every day spent with Steve was slowly leading Bucky to a free-fall he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

-

[Image: A tweet from user @ModEAKels (EXTRA KELSEY) with a screenshot of a gossip website. On the website’s banner is a photo of Bruce, Tony and Scott working on something. Bruce is wearing gloves. Bruce’s gloved hand is magnified and highlighted with a yellow circle.

Website headline text: EXCLUSIVE Banner hides hand after fight with Rumlow. Will he be able to play?

Tweet caption: I saw this on a gossip site. Is this true? I don’t want to link the article and give them more views if it isn’t.]

-

If there was one thing they all hated with equal passion, it was the paparazzi. There were a handful in New York who were cool, who knew there were lines you didn’t cross. The band rarely expected the same treatment when on the road. Even Tony, who usually enjoyed his role as media darling, was muttering curses under his breath as they left the hotel and got on the van headed to the photoshoot. At least there were no radio interviews tomorrow.  
  
“Fucking vultures,” Tony growled low so that only Bucky could hear.  
  
Bucky was surprised when even Bruce met the paps with a glare as he and Wanda followed them into the van.  
  
It wasn’t until everyone was safely inside that he found out why.

“Pepper showed me the article.” Wanda scowled, Bruce sat next to her with a frown of his own. “I’m sorry they’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“I was wearing work gloves because Tony and Scott needed an extra hand with the speaker they were fixing! I wasn’t about to injure myself if something explodes like the last time,” Bruce growled.

“What happened?” Clint asked, oblivious as always. Although this time, Bucky wasn’t sure what Bruce was talking about either.

Tony pulled out his tablet and opened a link to a gossip site. He handed it to Clint, who was was sprawled on the seat behind him and Bucky. “These people need to learn to fact check. I know they’re not exactly Rachel Maddow but whatever happened to journalistic integrity?”

Clint shook his head, then passed the tablet to Bucky. At the top of the article was an enlarged photo of Bruce’s hand, too hi-res for it to be anything other than a paparazzi shot. He scrolled down the rest of the article and, just as expected, it was another piece about how the band’s relationship was crumbling. This time, the speculation was that the root of the problem was Bruce’s temper and not Bucky and Tony’s alleged rivalry. People really fucking sucked sometimes.

“Plus Florida.” Tony continued his rant. “How did the paparazzi get to Florida?”

“Most of them know how to drive.” Bucky reminded him.

Tony rolled his eyes, plopping his feet on Bucky’s lap. “You are a funny man. I don’t know how _certain people_ can resist that charm.”

Bucky looked at Tony’s feet and then at Tony, giving him an inquisitive look.

“What? I have sore soles.” Tony’s shrug was coupled with a wary glance at Bucky expecting to be pushed away. It didn’t surprise Bucky considering how often they were at odds with each other. He shook his head and left Tony’s feet where they were. Ever since Rumlow Tony had been oddly affectionate with him.

“They can also buy plane tickets,” Clint added belatedly. “Wanda, are there tissues up there? I think a bird pooped on me.”

Clint propped his arm on the back of Bucky’s seat to show him what was definitely a white shit-looking splotch.

Wanda handed him the box of tissues. “Maybe some of they came by way of alligator, you never know.”

“Hilarious.”

“Truly,” Steve deadpanned from his seat up front. “You guys can star in a reality TV show.”

Tony’s eyes brightened at Steve’s suggestion but was quickly put out by the resounding “NO!” from the rest of the band.

-

[Image: An Instagram post from user SBDiscordMag with a photo of Wanda behind the scenes of a photoshoot

Text: SBDiscordMag: Sneak peek of today’s shoot. Civil War did their civic duty by being ridiculously hot]

-

_Vultures on the descent_

His phone displayed the message at the same time he spotted the paparazzi. True to the nickname, they were hurrying towards where the and Clint were waiting for the van.

Natasha and Pepper did their best to keep their schedules locked down, but there was only so much they could do when it came to the paps who just _happened_ to have great timing.

Bucky tried to lose the scowl, schooling his features into something more pleasant even as they hurled questions at them.

“Hey, guys. What’s going on?” One of the paps asked casually.

Clint nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes on his phone as his fingers typed out a text message. Bucky hoped it was to tell the van to hurry up.

Traffic on the street was moving slowly, which wasn’t Phil’s fault, but it made him wish he had gone ahead with Wanda and Bruce instead of waiting for Tony with Clint. The photoshoot had run long and Tony’s solo portraits were scheduled last.

A few steps in front of him and to the side, Steve glowered at the pack, preventing them from attempting to move closer. One particularly aggressive man with a Hello Kitty sticker on his video camera nodded at Bucky as if they were old pals.

“Man, is it true you were the reason Bruce Banner and Brock Rumlow got into a fight?”

“Bruce had Rumlow on the ground with one punch. Wasn’t much of a fight,” Clint muttered under his breath.

Bucky gave Clint a warning glance. There was no way the camera wasn’t going to pick that up.

Hello Kitty Sticker Guy seemed to know that too. He gave Clint a huge thumbs up, then swiveled back to Bucky. “There are rumours Rumlow was there to talk you back to Lukin records. Are you thinking about going back to your solo career?”

Bucky gritted his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve about to interfere but, before he could the photo studio’s double doors flew open. Tony walked through them in his usual self-aggrandizing fashion, taking the attention away from Bucky.

“Do you have anything to say about Rumlow trying to steal your front man?” Hello Kitty Sticker shouted at Tony.

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. “Jesus, not this bullshit again.”

“Not bullshit if it’s true, dude.”

Tony gave them another exaggerated eye roll, then slung an arm around Bucky’s shoulder, his other hand coming up to pat at Bucky’s collarbone.

“You’re not breaking up the band right, Buckaroo?” Tony barely gave Bucky time to shake his head no before saying. “See, everything fine. Families fight sometimes. It happens. Bucky here is back where he belongs and he’s not going anywhere.”

“So everything’s okay between you two?”

“Peachy,” Tony gave Bucky a kiss on the cheek to emphasize just how okay they were. “I missed this dumb lug.”

Bucky ducked his head, laughing. Leave it to Tony to break the tension being being a dork.

“Careful,” Bucky said, putting on his cockiest grin. “You’re going to start a different kind of rumor about us.”

“Who said they were rumors?” Tony asked with a wink.

Clint shook his head at the two of them, but he too was smiling, albeit a little sappily since he was Clint. Bucky understood why. It was almost like when they had first started the band: their friendship not only knitted by music but also strengthened by it.

Tony seemed to notice and slung an arm over Clint’s shoulder too. Bucky chuckled at the increasingly sentimental look on Clint’s face. If Tony wasn’t careful he was going to make Clint cry.

Thankfully, Phil chose that exact moment to pull up with the van.

Steering them away from the paps, Tony said over his shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a sold out concert to perform.”

-

[Image: A tweet from user TheTonyStark (I AM TONY STARK)

Twitter caption: .@BuckyBarnesand I have our differences, but at the end of the day we’re a family and we support each other no matter what  
  
Response from user @NasTEA (No one here): DONT LET THE MUGGLES GET YOU DOWN  
  
Response from user @AinselOfMine (Emi): Been waiting for this. Glad to see the band back together! #FaveBrotp

-

“Can you give me a sec?” Bucky asked Steve as they all reached their hotel floor. Steve nodded, hanging back, and giving Bucky space to run up to Tony who was just about to swipe open his door.

“Tony!”

Tony leaned on the door, waiting for Bucky to catch up before saying, “You’re sorry, I’m sorry, yada yada. We’re family and we love each other. Am I missing anything?“

He raised his eyebrows and Bucky smiled. Trust Tony to just fold all their history into a couple of quick sentences and let them know they were okay.

“No, I think that covers it.” Bucky clasped a hand on Tony’s shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. “I missed you, Stark.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you too,” Tony said, before pulling away from the hug. “And look, I know you mentioned Rumlow wasn’t the best influence, but that guy’s a fucking psychopath. Glad you got away.”

“You and me both.”

They stood in semi-awkward silence until Tony said, “Your family didn’t stop sending me Christmas cards you know. Your mom even sends me baked goods every month. Does the woman still think we’re away in camp?”

“My mother loves you.” It pained Bucky to know that Tony assumed his relationship with the Barneses would end when his friendship with Bucky did.

Tony smiled, cocky as all hell, but his eyes betrayed his affection. “Her one flaw. Besides giving birth to you.”

Bucky laughed, feeling like maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

-

[Image: An Instagram post from user WandaMax with a photo of two plates of beignets and a cup of coffee

Instagram caption: Pampering ourselves with New Orlean’s best before show time . #LadiesDayOut #NoBoysAllowed

-

“If Laura wasn’t flying in, I’d spend the next 48 hours asleep.” Clint adjusted his sunglasses against the bright sunlight, hoisting his backpack over his shoulder. “What’re you planning to do?”

They had two days with absolutely nothing scheduled which was a welcome reprieve from the non-stop cycle of press, events and concerts the past month. Bucky always prefered touring over sitting in a studio playing the same until it was perfect. Hitting the road in his early thirties wasn’t the same as when he was twenty-two.

He shrugged. “Gonna explore the city. We haven’t been in New Orleans in a while.”

“Maybe we’ll join you for some of that. Pepper’s here too but Nat was talking about taking the girls on a food slash spa day. Tony and Bruce are meeting with a professor they know at the university.”

Bucky nodded but didn’t expect Clint to show up. If he hadn’t seen his wife in a month, he probably wouldn’t leave the hotel room either.

Which left him with the one person he could count on.

“You’re not going to let me walk around the city by myself are you?” Bucky asked Steve, already planning an itinerary in his head.

“Not a chance.”

Bucky grinned. “Come on then, I wanna pack a couple of things before we go.”

-

Warm air flowed through the streets and through the open windows of the streetcar as it traversed its route. It threatened to take Bucky’s baseball cap with it.

Steve laughed as a gust of wind finally did lift the hat off Bucky’s head, cat-like reflexes allowing him to catch it before it could escape.

“ _My hero_ ,” Bucky said as thanks, taking the cap and sticking it into his backpack. The wind blew strands of hair into his face, but he didn’t mind. Aside from New York, New Orleans was one of Bucky’s favorite cities. The mix of the old and new architecture reminded him of home, of brownstones nestled against skyscrapers.

Home carried with it a complicated relationship, but New Orleans was enough of a stranger to him that Bucky didn’t need to look beyond the art and the music.

“First time here?” Bucky turned from the window so he was facing Steve.

The almost childlike excitement on Steve’s face as the streetcar rolled down the street was enough of an answer. “I’ve seen more of the Middle East than my own country. Farthest I’ve been from home before the tour was New Jersey.”

“You’re in luck, pal. Welcome to the exclusive Bucky Barnes NOLA tour.” Bucky reached up and pulled the string that signaled the driver.

“I know you’re not exactly the President, but it helps when I know where we’re going.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Bucky asked, clipping on his guitar soft case that doubled as a backpack. He lead the way off the streetcar and down the street.

They stopped now and then to take photos until they reached the park. It was surprisingly quiet, even in the secluded area that Bucky had discovered when he was last in the city.

Around them, trees whispered in the breeze and the soft sound of people laughing and talking floated from other more populated portions of the park.

Steve stuck his hands in his back pockets, taking in the scenery. The smile on his face rivaled the warmth of the sun trickling through the trees branches. Music swelled inside Bucky’s chest, the kind that resulted in sappy, sickening songs about being young and in love.

Ducking his head to keep from staring, Bucky set his guitar on the grass and started setting up the little picnic he had planned complete with sandwiches, cans of soda and a red checkered tablecloth the hotel concierge had helpfully provided.

Steve grabbed a couple of rocks to weight down the ends of the tablecloth. Then, he laid down on it, crossing his arms underneath his head and grinning ear to ear. Bucky imagined a puppy that had been allowed to go out and play after being stuck inside.

He sat down on the other half of the tablecloth.

“Oh, I have something for you.” Bucky opened the front of his soft case and took out a new sketch pad and a couple of pencils.

Steve raised himself on one elbow, his eyes held startled surprise which quickly turned soft when he realized what Bucky was handing him.

There was a fluttering in Bucky’s chest as Steve stared at him, his eyes bright with gratitude. Bucky would willingly buy him a whole art store if it meant Steve would keep looking at him like that.

“You didn’t have to do this. Thank you.”

Bucky had to clear his throat. “It’s the least I can do. I haven’t exactly been the easiest person to protect.”

Steve shook his head as he eagerly turned to the first page of the sketchbook, fingers already wrapped around a sharpened pencil. “Don’t. You’re perfect, Buck.”

The statement was simple. Straightforward. It made Bucky’s heart flutter in his chest.

Bucky watched as Steve sketched out lines and curves, the final product a mystery to everyone but him. He grabbed his guitar from its case and got comfortable, strumming nothing in particular at first. The soft sound of Steve’s pencil reminded Bucky of the night he fell asleep to Steve’s sketching.

_When the lights go out / Do you remember the nights_

He opened his own ratty notebook and started writing down the words and music tumbling around in his head.

It was the calmest Bucky had felt in a long time.

 

_(Sketch of Bucky and Steve. Bucky is sitting on a red and white checked blanket, strumming a guitar on his lap. Steve is reclined on the same blanket, propped up on one elbow and sketching on a notebook.)_

 

-

After their sandwiches were long gone and it was too dark to keep hanging out at the park, Bucky set them on the path to their next destination.

They walked past Cafe Du Monde, drawn by the smell of beignets, but the crowd was so big that even the prospect of getting to Steve to try the sweet pastry puffs wasn’t worth it.

Instead, Bucky led them down an alley that ended on a small, sort of shabby looking restaurant.

Bucky was barely inside before he was greeted by a familiar drawl.

“James Barnes! As I live and breathe.”

Smiling widely, Bucky stepped into a back-thumping hug. “Nice to see you, man. Remy, this is my friend, Steve.”

Remy let go of Bucky and shook Steve’s hand. “You are a musician too?”

“No, just here to watch Bucky’s back.”

“Good, good. This _couillon_ definitely needs it.”

“You forget I know what that means,” Bucky told him.

“Who said I forgot, _chère_?” Remy laughed then led them to a table in the corner.

Remy straddled a chair when Steve and Bucky sat down. “I see your face plastered all over my beautiful city and I had to wonder when the Winter Soldier would grace us with his presence.”

Steve’s eyebrow furrowed, seeming to catch the reference as well, so Bucky gave him a small reassuring smile. The use of the nickname his fans had coined from his solo album title would have grated from anyone else. Bucky knew Remy meant nothing by it.

“That’s not me anymore,” he reminded Remy.

“Ahhh, yes. _Mais!_ Pardon!” Remy leaned closer to Steve as if to tell him a secret. “I met James when he was still hanging around bad, bad men but that is in the past! Today is about my beignets. Yes?”

“No other reason to come down here,” Bucky teased.

“Give me that,” Remy called to one of his waiters who handed him a menu. He placed it on the table as he stood up. “Order anything it’s on the house.”

“ _Remy_ —”

He raised a hand to stop Bucky’s protests and pointed at a small space across the room that was obviously reserved for performances. “Maybe you pay with your atrocious music? Only the good lord knows why my patrons love you, but alas they do.”

Remy left and Bucky stretched out his legs under the table. His foot bumped against Steve’s. He left it there since Steve didn’t seem inclined to move his either.

“Should I expect to be this pampered at the rest of the tour stops?” Steve asked and Bucky had to keep himself from responding to the slightly flirtatious tone in kind.

“That assumes we get more days like this.”

It was a safe reply. One that didn’t give away the way Bucky’s heart leapt at the chance to explore another city with Steve.

“My ma was Irish. She would have been horrified to know you’ve been feeding me instead of the other way around.”

“You fed me once.”

“Dead Irish Ma was very proud of me that day.”

Bucky laughed. For a brief second he wondered how different things would be if Steve was a part of his life by choice and not obligation. It surprised him to realize very little would change. Even Steve’s penchant for protecting Bucky from any perceived danger seemed as much a part of Steve as anything else.

Dating Steve probably wouldn’t be much different either. Steve seemed like the kind of guy who could be both your best friend and your boyfriend. Someone who valued the friendship in the relationship as much as the romance.

“Are you planning on giving it a go?” Steve asked and for a terrifying second Bucky thought Steve was reading his mind.

Bucky eyes widened, a raccoon caught in the headlights. “What?”

Although he was definitely acting stranger than usual, Steve didn’t mention it. “Remy said you might want to serenade the crowd. If you’re taking requests, there are a couple of tunes I wouldn’t mind hearing from the great Bucky Barnes.”

He looked around the restaurant, considering his options. The restaurant was barely full. Most of the afternoon crowd had come and gone, leaving only a smattering of patrons, and Bucky preferred it that way sometimes. It was more intimate.

“Hey, as long as it’s not “Iris” from the Goo Goo Dolls, I’ll play you anything you want.”

Steve narrowed his eyes a little. “I feel like there’s a story there.”

“Pepper ran a fundraising gig in high school. I got roped in to singing for the high-priced Valentine grams. The song was annoyingly popular.”

“Damn. That was my favorite song too.” Steve leaned back in his chair and gestured towards the small raised platform. “How about you surprise me?”

Grabbing his guitar case, Bucky stood up and gave Steve a wink. “You know what, I think I will.”

-

A smattering of applause punctuated the end of his third song.

“Thank you! Don’t forget to tip your waitress,” Bucky half-joked as his fingers plucked at his guitar strings.

He stuck to the band's catalog for most of the short set. Threw in a couple of songs from his solo album both for pleasure and as a fuck you to the Alexander Pierces of the world.  
  
It was refreshing to play "The Haunting" and "Time is Running Out" closer to the way he'd always wanted to sing them instead of the jagged and aggressive versions Pierce had pushed him to do all those years ago  
  
Bucky had been such an idiot to have signed away his songwriting rights to Lunkin Records.

Pushing the bitter thoughts away came easy after Bucky noticed Steve's gaze. Their eyes met then, and Steve waved in the same dorky way he did before they were acquainted. Bucky chuckled, giving him a small wave in response.

Steve looked down at the table, a soft smile on his face. Bucky narrowed his eyes and realized that Steve had been doodling again as he was playing.

Almost on autopilot, his fingers found the chords to his next song.

He started playing a 1940s ballad. It had been his favorite song when he first started playing the guitar. Between the lyrics and the melody it reminded him of Steve. Not just the Steve he knew, but all the versions of Steve that he still wanted to get to know.

Steve when he was in his teens and raging at the injustices of the world, Steve when he was in the army and earned himself the nickname Captain America, the Steve that had found himself in at a crossroads and had chosen to follow a different path.

Bucky let himself stare as he played, let his eyes wander over the planes and curves of Steve’s face, his expressive chin, and all too earnest eyes. And Steve, Steve was staring right back, lips slightly parted as if he was trying to catch his breath.

Nothing was off-limits when he was performing. Music was the only way he could clear his head of the neverending jumble of thoughts. It made him fearless, able to open himself up and not look away as Steve drank his fill of him.

All too soon, the song ended and Bucky was the first to look away, chest heaving slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

“I highly doubt any of you are old enough to remember that song. It’s an old favorite of mine and since that was my last song for the night I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

Once he had carefully packed away his guitar, he was approached by a couple of fans who wanted photos and Bucky happily obliged. A part of him wasn’t ready to go back and face Steve. Not when he still felt as raw and split open after that last song.

A couple more minutes of small talk and pictures passed before Bucky walked over to their table where Steve and Remy were talking in rapid French.

He raised his eyebrows at the both of them. Not only because they were being rude fucks, but also because he didn’t know Steve spoke fluent enough French to keep up with Remy’s bastardization of the language.

“Neither of you are going to tell me what you’re talking about, so I should just shut up and eat my beignets, right?”

Steve flushed while Remy gave him a sparkling grin that spoke volumes of the mischief he was capable of. “ _Oui_ , but I have taken up enough of Steve’s attention that I’m sure would rather be elsewhere. I will leave you two to your meal.”

As soon as Remy was out of earshot, Bucky turned to Steve, fully intending to wheedle the truth from him.

“Steeeeevie—”

Steve shoved the whole piece into Bucky’s mouth and covering his chin with powdered sugar.

“Here, Buck, they’re really good.” Steve’s voice was shaking with laughter.

“Rude,” Bucky grumbled, barely audible with his mouth full.

“I didn’t get that. Did you say you want another one?”

Bucky swallowed, then dodged the second beignet Steve was aiming at his mouth, shoving Steve away with a laugh. “You’re such an asshole. I’m never taking you anywhere again.”

-

[Image: A twitter post from @Murder-D-B (MURDER BEE) with a video of Bucky playing his guitar at a restaurant.

Twitter caption: Bucky playing at Remy’s!!! I can’t believe it. I’m going to cry. Also DAMNNN the guy with him is a full course meal. He better be treating Bucky right.]


	6. Chapter 6

There were times when Bucky knew without a doubt that his band mates were complete and total children. Hanging out in the greenroom before a local TV interview in Texas was one of them.

“So, what’s going on with you and Cap?” Tony handed out water bottles to each of them, saving one for himself.

“Thanks. Who?” Bucky asked, his attention more on the screen showing the interview the guy was currently doing. He couldn’t remember the guest’s name, some eccentric Canadian actor or director or something.

Tony took a swig from his bottle and pointed it across the room at Steve. “He was a Captain in the Army. Hence, Cap.”

“I heard he was called Captain America,” Bruce added. Given that Bruce was the least gossipy person Bucky knew, Steve’s army nickname was for sure now public knowledge.

Wanda raised her legs on the couch, tucking her feet under Bruce’s thigh. “C’mon, Bucky, dish.”

“There’s _nothing_ going on with me and Steve,” Bucky said keeping his voice low. Steve had better be out of earshot or he was truly going to kill his bandmates.

He kept one eye on Steve, only looking away when Clint checked out his eyeline and leered at Bucky.

“You guys have been inseparable since he joined the tour.”

“He’s my bodyguard!”

“I heard Sam say he’s woken up more then once with Steve missing from their room,” Wanda said, shrugging at the betrayed look Bucky threw at her. Wanda gave him an innocent smile that reminded him too much of the way his sisters would look at him when they were up to something. “I’m just repeating what I heard.”

Bucky fought the blush he knew was making its way up his neck. Goddamn Sam and his mouth. Worse than TMZ. “We went for a walk. I had trouble sleeping, you know that.”

None of them needed to know that Steve had been sleeping in his room whenever he could hear that Bucky was restless at night.

“Uh-huh.” Clint pushed the chair he was straddling forward so it was balancing on two legs and thrust his phone in Bucky’s face. On it was a grainy still of Steve while Bucky was playing at Remy’s. “Cameras don’t lie, man. The guy is mooning over you.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at Clint.

“Okay, cameras lie all the time,” Clint conceded, “but that is definitely a moon face. Mooning face, not moon face. Has there been mooning?”

Tony perked up, waggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly. “Barnes, you dog.”

“I feel like someone should be doing someone else’s pigtails,” Bruce commented.

“Oh, do mine!”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the lot of them. “Can we not speculate about my nonexistent sex life? Especially when there are probably video cameras even in here?”

“This isn’t “Ellen”. No one’s recording the green room.”

“Thor did mention they have a pretty impressive CCTV system.”

“Please don’t let this be like “Ellen”. I’m going to end up punching someone in the face again,” Bruce said morosely. “I’m having Pepper put ‘no jump scares’ in our rider.”

“Have them add a bowl of only purple M&Ms,” Clint proposed.

“We could do with a bowl of fruit too,” Bucky suggested, glad to help change the subject along.

Tony pointed at him, seemingly aware of exactly what he was doing. “This isn’t over, Barnes.”

Bucky ignored him and looked over to where Steve was standing; he could swear his ears were tinged pink.

He considered the possibility of Steve having overhead every word of their conversation. A tiny part of Bucky wondered if it was so bad if he did.

-

[A tweet from user @ClintBarton (HAWKEYE CLINT)

Tweet caption: Howdy, Texas! Now where do I go for a totally ginormous slab of steak?]

-

“Worst hotel experience?” Steve asked as they made their way to the elevators.

“First tour. Delaware,” Bucky answered promptly. “Worst thing you’ve ever eaten?”

“MREs. They’re fine at the beginning, but after living off them for a couple of weeks...” Steve made a pained face. “I don’t think I ever wanna see another one of those foil packets again.”

“So I guess you won’t want a box of MREs for your birthday?” Bucky teased, ducking when Steve tried to smack him. He pushed the down button before straightening. “You’d think they’d serve you better food considering what you do.”

“They actually did serve us real food. The MREs are for when you’re on the field or in the middle of combat.” Steve laughed. “We used to joke that, between the MREs and a bullet to the stomach, the bullet might be better.”

Bucky’s chest clenched painfully at the thought of Steve getting shot. In an abstract way, he had always known the risks of Steve’s stint in the army. Having Steve joke so casually about it only solidified the idea, made it more terrifying.

His discomfort must have shown on his face because Steve was looking at him curiously.

“Just glad really you’re here now,” Bucky told him, trying to go for a lighter tone but falling just a couple of inches short.

The smile that Steve gave him was small, but it still made Bucky feel like he was being filled up with warm honey tea.

He was grateful when his phone started vibrating continuously in his pocket and he had a reason to look away.

_Bucky_

_Buckyyyyy_

_Bucky bucky bucky_

_You need to come down here now, man. I NEED TO PEE_

Bucky frowned at the messages from Clint and typed out his own response. _What do you need me for?_

_Darcy left her equipment with me and no one’s here to watch over it._

_Tell the concierge!_

_I don’t trust him he seems shifty._

_You are one arrow shy of a full quiver, my friend._ Knowing that Clint wasn’t going to stop Bucky added, _We’re on our way._

Bucky pocketed his phone just as the elevator doors opened. “C’mon. Clint needs back-up,” he said, turning around when he realized that Steve hadn’t followed him inside.

Steve was frowning down at his own phone. Bucky instinctively glanced down as well and saw that Steve had received a message from a private number. He looked away, quickly hoping Steve didn’t think he was snoopin.

“Got a text that Sam needs me to grab his phone from the room,” he said.

The elevator doors tried to close and Bucky had to stop them with his foot.

“I’ll meet you at the lobby.” His phone was vibrating again, indicating more messages from Clint.

Steve looked at the hall and then at Bucky, visibly conflicted.

“It’s like twenty floors down. No one’s going to jump me between here and there.”

Obviously still unsure, Steve nodded. The vee between his eyebrows still drawn together as the doors closed and started moving.

The elevator descended one floor before the doors opened again.

Bucky looked up from texting Clint and took in expensive leather shoes and a familiar tailored suit before his mind registered who he was looking at.

All at once his whole body was plunged into an ice cold bath.

“Hello, Bucky.”

Alexander Pierce stood in front of him, his low baritone deceptively cordial in his greeting. Hard, blue eyes cut into Bucky for a split second before Pierce turned around to face the elevator doors.

Bucky’s eyes darted across the small space. A small shiver of terror crawled up his spine when he realized that they were alone. There was no way to know for sure, but he’d bet his entire contract that Pierce had orchestrated this.

Jaw clenched, Bucky kept his eyes on the elevator display as it slowly descended, time stretching, thick like molasses and twice as cloying.

With each floor the fragile tower of cards that was Bucky’s life quivered and shook.

The ding of the elevator was loud as a gunshot.

“See you around, son.” Pierce gave Bucky a friendly smile over his shoulder as he exited the elevator.

The doors slid back close and Bucky still hadn’t moved an inch.

-

“You coming with us to dinner?”

Bucky surfaced slowly, blinking away the haze that was still clinging to the edges of his subconsciousness.

“Man, you’ve been out of it all day. Getting some food in you will be do you good.” Clint clamped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder causing him to flinch.

Concern took over Clint’s normally carefree features. “Seriously, Bucky, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Tired. It’s been a long day,” Bucky said managing to sound mostly normal. He ran a hand through his hair, taking in his surroundings. They were at one of the hotel conference rooms. People were packing up equipment, a blonde woman with a press badge was talking to Pepper by the door while her cameraman lopped a long wire around his arm. Jesus, did he just go through an entire junket checked out?

The last thing he remembered was seeing Pierce at the elevator.

Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose. Clint had asked a question. Something about dinner.  “Yeah, I think I’m going to hit the sack early. More press to do tomorrow.”

“You know it, man. Text me if you change your mind.”

Steve nodded to Clint as Clint walked past him. “Are we going to have a talk again about how my dead Irish Catholic mother doesn’t like it when I let friends go unfed?”

The laugh that escaped Bucky was feeble even to his ears.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, quietly so that only Bucky could hear.

‘Besides the meltdown I had after my old handler did nothing more than say hello to me? Nothing much. What’s new with you, Stevie?’, Bucky thought. Sighing, Bucky took a cotton pad from Darcy’s kit and soaked it with make-up remover. “Like I told Clint. It’s been a long day.”

He attacked his face with the cotton pad with large angry swipes that was effective in removing the foundation and his eyeliner but left his skin stinging and red.

“Buck, if you need to talk—”

“No, I don’t,” Bucky snapped. “You’re not my sponsor and you’re not my shrink. Back off.”

The hurt that flashed on Steve’s face made Bucky’s stomach clench. An apology danced on the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t come out. He desperately wanted to explain that he might be off the drugs. Yet he was still a mess and why couldn’t Steve fucking see that? Why couldn’t any of them see that?

Suddenly needing to be anywhere but there, Bucky stalked out of the conference room.

He didn’t look back. Despite Bucky’s show of assholery, Steve would be following to make sure he was okay.

-

Bucky waited until the hotel watch ticked to two a.m. before slowly getting out of bed, trying to make as little noise as possible as he left the room.

He had kept his side of their connecting rooms locked and Steve hadn’t tried to approach Bucky again after his outburst. However, Steve was a light sleeper and the last thing Bucky needed tonight was company. What he needed was to get away from his thoughts. He needed to escape the claustrophobic walls of his hotel room.

It was easy to empty out his thoughts and let the familiar feeling of floating in nothingness guide him out of his room and onto the street.

The walk to a seedy bar a couple of blocks from the hotel was short. It was far enough that none of the crew would think about getting a nightcap there and discreet enough that no one was going to notice him.

Bucky sat on a sticky barstool and motioned to the bartender.

“Scotch neat.”

The bartender set the drink in front of him and Bucky clutched the glass, unable to lift it from the wooden surface.

Fragments of color danced on his skin as the light refracted when it hit the glass.

Memories played in front of him unbidden, snatches of time that he had repressed, buried deep in his subconscious until he could pretend that none of it had happened. He should have known better, should have realized that Rumlow and Pierce would always have a hold on him. Would never let go.

He dropped his hand, the visual too much of a representation of what he was feeling inside. The right thing to do was to leave and call Dum Dum. He exhaled. Why couldn't he have one day where he didn't have to think about this mess? Fuckin' A, was he a loser or what?

Bucky traced the tip of his finger around the rim of the glass. Barely touching. It was a waiting game of which of his demons would emerge the victor.

 

_(Sketch of Bucky sitting at the bar, his forehead propped on his left hand which has on multi-color nail polish. His right hand is wrapped around a glass.)_

 

He let the tip of his finger dip into the glass, until the tip of his finger touched cool, amber liquid.

That was as far as he got before a soft distressed sound made him turn in his chair.

“Oh, Bucky.”

Wanda was standing at the end of the bar, heartbreak evident in her soft green eyes. God, she reminded him so much of Becca.

“I wasn’t going to drink it.” The lie passed through Bucky’s lips before he could stop it. “I don’t think,” he added feebly.

Wanda took a tentative step forward as if Bucky was a deer who could startle and run. “Let’s just go back to the hotel. I promise I won’t tell Nat.”

Bucky gritted his teeth. Now he was making other people keep secrets. Was he so fucking weak that he was taking down innocent people with him?

He pushed away the glass roughly, spilling some of the liquid on the counter.

The action drew a surprised gasp from Wanda. “Bucky—”

“Leave me alone, Wanda. Please.” Bucky put his elbows on the bar and covered his eyes with his hands. He couldn’t look at Wanda. Couldn’t deal with the possibility of seeing pity and disappointment in her face.

“No.” Wanda’s voice was soft but firm. “I’m not leaving. Even if you chose to stay, I’m not leaving you here alone.”

A small hand cradled his cheek and Bucky shifted so that his palm enclosed Wanda’s, holding tight but keeping his eyes squeezed shut.

“I don’t know if you remember, Natasha said you were pretty out of it then, but you called me when Pietro died. You told me that you would never be able to replace what I had lost, but no matter what I would always be one of your little sisters. And that if you could, you’d be right there with me.”

He did remember.

Remembered how Wanda’s voice had sounded, like someone had ripped her heart out from her chest, and the shame he had felt knowing she was seeking comfort that he hadn’t been there to give.

Once he was sure he wasn't going to be a sobbing mess, he opened his eyes. He swallowed his apology when confronted with the look in Wanda's eyes. Even through the sheen of tears, she wasn't pitying him or disappointed. Instead, she radiated an unwavering kind of pride

Wanda lifted her other hand to brush a lock of hair off Bucky’s forehead. “You were in withdrawal and going through so much pain, but you made sure I knew that I wasn’t alone. You need to know the same thing. You are not alone in this, Bucky Barnes.”

If they weren’t in public, Bucky was sure he would be bawling his eyes out. He was Winifred Barnes’ son after all. For now, he settled on slipping off the stool and giving Wanda a hug instead.

“When did you grow up and get all wise?”

“Five years apart,” Wanda reminded him with a roll of her eyes.

Giving her another squeeze, Bucky let go so he could leave a couple of bills on the bar. “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime. And I think Nat and I need to have a conversation.”

It was warm and muggy outside the bar. The late hour doing nothing for Texas in August. Bucky hadn’t even noticed after he left the hotel in such a hurry, all he’d cared about was getting to that drink.

He owed them better than this. Owed himself just as much.

There were always going to be assholes like Rumlow and Pierce. Wanda was right: he wasn't alone anymore. He might stumble. He might even need help getting back up. The most important thing was to keep fighting.

Bucky took Wanda’s hand, twining their fingers together. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when Pietro passed away.”

Wanda wrapped herself around Bucky’s arm as they walked. “Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

When they got to his floor, Steve, Sam and Natasha were standing outside his door.

“Fuck.”

Wanda’s wide terrified eyes said just as much. Bucky couldn’t help it as he laughed and laughed.

-

As soon as he was able to control the hysterical laughter that kept bubbling inside of him and Wanda had assured everyone that Bucky wasn’t intoxicated, Bucky hugged Wanda and let her get back to her room.

“Go get some sleep, kid.”

Wanda stuck her tongue out at him. “Love you, Barnes.”

He sat down on the bed as the door closed behind her. It was better she wasn’t around for this part.

“Before you start in on me. There’s something I haven’t told you about my time with Pierce and Rumlow.” Bucky said, talking mostly to Nat. He didn’t mind that Steve and Sam were in the room, but he needed to tell her more than most.

“I’m listening,” Nat said calmly, although her eyes told him he was still going to rip him a new one.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, halfway wishing he was back in the bar for this. He was going to do his damndest not to follow through on his cravings, even through they would always be there.

“I wanted to leave Lukin Records right after the Winter Soldier album came out. I talked to Rumlow and he underst—” he let out a sardonic laugh, “—he _pretended_ to understand. Said I should talk to Pierce. And I did, but Pierce has a way of getting into your head. He convinced me that it was better for the band to continue without me. That going on my own was my destiny and that it was for the good of everyone involved. That my addictions were going to destroy the people I loved.”

“Evil rat bastard,” Sam mumbled. Beside him, Steve’s hands were balled into fists.

“I—” Bucky took a shaky breath, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I tried getting clean after that. I was determined. But they started slipping it into my drinks, into my food. I’d be eating my damn dinner and the next thing I knew I was high as a kite.”

He didn’t have to look at any of them to know that they all had identical horrified expressions on their faces.

“I got hooked again and again. Rumlow had started living out of my apartment, no doubt on Pierce’s orders. There was no way out.”

“Until T'Challa,” Natasha said, knowing that part of the story.

Bucky nodded, filling in the blanks more for Steve than Nat and Sam. “We had done a collaboration on the album and he saw how bad I was getting. How Rumlow and Pierce controlled every move I made. He helped me get away. Took me to one of his properties to detox.”

He took a deep breath. “And it helped, I’m _better_. Or so I thought until I saw Pierce today.”

“Pierce was _here_?” Natasha asked, looking at Steve who shook his head.

“I didn’t see—“

“He was in the elevator when I went to meet Clint.” Bucky saw Sam and Steve share a look.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell you what? I saw him. He said hello and then left. Nothing happened.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair again, hoping that they didn’t notice it was trembling slightly. “But you know that saying about the abyss staring back into you? Pierce is my abyss apparently.”

“Are you okay?”

“As okay as to be expected,” Bucky replied with a humorless laugh. “If Wanda hadn’t been there— I’m not. But I will be okay.”

Natasha’s lips were a thin straight line as she nodded. “I have to update Fury. Sam, he’ll want to talk to you as well.” She gave Bucky a sympathetic look. “I know it’s been a long night for you but wait up for us, okay?”

Sam clasped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, said nothing as they he and Natasha moved to the other room.

Steve stayed with him, one hand on the table and the other on his hip. “I didn’t think I’d ever see Natasha looking as scared as she did.”

“Is guilt-tripping something your dead Irish Catholic ma taught you as well?” Bucky teased trying to cut through the heavy atmosphere.

“Depends on how much sunnin’ you’ve done.” Steve’s voice was light but Bucky could see the tense lines of his shoulders.

He sighed. “Are you and Sam in trouble with Fury?”

“No?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know.”

Bucky patted the space next to him. “Do me a favor, pal, and sit down. You look like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin. Fury will understand about the elevator.”

The look Steve gave him suggested that Bucky was such an idiot he was almost offended.

“Fury— I don’t care about Fury. We care about you. We were scared. Damnit. _I_ was scared, Buck. I didn’t know where you were. You have to know by now that I—” Steve sat down next to him and ran a hand over his face.

Bucky held his breath as Steve sat motionless one hand still covering his eyes. When he finally removed his hand, the distraught look in his eyes left Bucky’s heart with a pulsing ache.

“I care about you,” Steve said almost too quiet for Bucky to hear if he wasn’t sitting right next to him. “And everyone in this tour does too. I know it’s hard, but everyone here would take a bullet for you. And not just because it’s my job to do it,” Steve added with a small smile.

Bucky’s fingers clutched at the bedspread, stopping him from taking Steve’s hand the way he did with Wanda. “That’s just it. I don’t want you to _have_ to take a bullet for me. I’m an addict, Stevie. It’s what I am. And our mistakes are harder on people we love so it’s easier to pretend that we aren’t making any mistakes at all.”

“You never have to pretend with me.”

The warmth that spread through Bucky was almost too much to contain in his smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And I’m sorry too. This was partly my fault.”

It was Bucky’s turn to look at Steve incredulously. “That you left me for five minutes and it so happened that those five minutes was when Pierce showed up? What exactly about that are you supposed to be sorry for?”

“None of this is on you, Steve.” Natasha reaffirmed, obviously catching the tail end of their conversations as she and Sam stepped back into the room. “In fact, Bucky, there’s something Fury didn’t want you to know.”

“Of course there is.”

Sam tipped his head in agreement. “You know how he operates, no one ever knows everything unless he wants them to know.”

Nat didn’t contradict Sam’s observation about their boss. “Fury requested for a personal bodyguard not just because of threats from fans, but because of threats from Pierce. Pierce wants his Winter Soldier back. And, as much as Fury trusts you—”

Bucky snorted. “Fury doesn’t trust anyone.”

“—he doesn’t trust what Pierce is capable of.”

“Like having people spike my drink just so I’d do what he wants? Fury’s right to take precautions. I don’t blame him.”

Steve shifted closer to him, his lips pressed together. Bucky couldn’t tell if he wanted to calm Bucky down or if Steve was the one who needed calming down.

Natasha continued. “Fury knows what Pierce can do and knows that he’s good at getting away with it. We’re going to have to double your security and have someone watch you 24/7. Steve can do the morning shift while Thor does nights.”

Scowling, Bucky tried to make Natasha see reason. “That’s going to be hell for him. We’re either on the road or getting ready for a show in the mornings. Thor will never get any sleep.”

“Fury’s orders.”

“There is another option,” Sam piped up. “If it won’t be too much of an inconvenience, Steve could just stay in the same room as you.”

Nat took a second to consider it. “It could work. No one would have to be pulling all-nighters.”

“Plus it’s not like it’s any different from what Steve does now,” Sam commented making both Bucky and Steve blush.

They both looked entirely too innocent and Bucky realized they had planned the whole exchange.

“I almost fell of the wagon and still my friends are goddamned messing with me,” Bucky muttered. “Fine, but there’s another thing I know this might mess up the schedule, um. Last time I spoke with Dum Dum, he suggested I attend meetings when I needed more support. Starting with our next stop."  
  
Truth was he hadn't even had the chance to talk to his sponsor. Still, he knew what he had to do.

Natasha nodded. “It won’t be a problem. Get some sleep. I’ll tell Pepper to move some of your interviews to the afternoon.” She raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s protest. “She’ll make it work.”

Despite his protests, he was grateful for the reprieve. Also it would give him time to actually talk to Dum Dum. “Thanks, Nat.”

“I’ll have you moved to a different room tomorrow. For tonight, as Sam said, I heard you two have no problem sharing a bed.”

Bucky resolutely _did not_ look at Steve, even resisted the urge to give Sam the finger when he gave Bucky a shit-eating grin.

His friends were amazing assholes.

He truly didn’t deserve any of them.

-

[Image: A YouTube video of an interview with Wanda.

Video title: Wanda Maximoff talks about second chances and always loving the people around you even when they make it hard to love them.

Comment from Ze Grandmistress  
Oh come on. It’s obvious she’s talking about Bucky. They’re totally dating.

Comment from ManDARIN’ TO BELIEVE  
That’s just a rumor. Wasn’t he seen on a date with a different guy recently? I don’t think Bucky would date one of his bandmates. And if he did, he’d date Tony. NOT Wanda.

Comment from FitzSimmon Barnimoff  
Sure, because I hold hands with my friends while walking back to my hotel at THREE IN THE MORNING]


	7. Chapter 7

[Image: Twitter post from user @BRUCEBANNER (Dr. Bruce Banner (TONY MADE ME DO IT)) with a photo of a man's silhouette against a sky filled sky.

Twitter caption: Hey, New Mexico. Was it just me and @thorthunderpants or did the stars look different tonight?]

-

There was something about the crappy coffee in NA meetings that was a comfort to Bucky. Unfortunately, because of its attendees, this particular meeting was serving an expensive blend that was actually well-brewed. Bucky wasn’t even sure how Dum Dum was able to find him a meeting in New Mexico when he was all the way in Boston.

It wasn’t so much a closed meeting as it was an exclusive one. No one in their little circle was in the entertainment industry, but he remembered seeing a couple of faces in magazines or on the internet. All of them high-profile and trying to keep their addictions a secret.

“Do you want me to wait outside?” Steve had asked before the start of the meeting. “I’m sure it’ll be okay with Natasha.”

Bucky had shrugged, trying to cover up his nervousness. “I don’t mind if you stayed. It would be nice to see a familiar face.”

And so Steve had stayed in the back with a man and two women who seemed to be bodyguards as well. The trio looked bored. Unlike Steve, who kept giving Bucky small yet encouraging smiles whenever they looked at each other.

The man running the meeting, Erik, placed his styrofoam cup of coffee on the floor once the last member finished his sharing.

“You’re new to our group, Bucky. Is there anything you’d like to say?”

Bucky crossed his arms in front of himself, taking a moment to consider passing then deciding to hell with it. “Hi I’m Bucky, and I’m a drug addict. Sober for two years and almost three months and a couple of nights ago I went to a bar and ordered a drink.”

There were noises of commiseration and encouragement from the group. None of them needed to say anything for Bucky to know they understood. They had been where he was at some point or another.

Bucky uncrossed his arms, placing his palms on his knees. “We often hear people saying that sobriety will always be a challenge. That sometimes you take it day by day and sometimes you take it minute by minute. But, when are things are good for a long time, you forget how hard the days are that require you take them breath by breath.

“So yeah, I’m Bucky and I’m an addict and I tripped but I got back up.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling when he looked and saw the pride in Steve’s face. “I’m hoping to keep trying to get back up. Part of that is learning that there will always be people in my corner who are always there for me. And that even in my darkest moments, I’m not alone.”

Erik nodded. “When you need help there’s always someone to lend a helping hand, you just have to know to ask for it.”

There was a soft clapping as was the routine, but all Bucky could see was Steve, staring at Bucky like he was actually worthy of being seen.

-

[Image: An article from the website JustJared.com with a photo of Bucky and Wanda at night, holding hands]

Headline Text: Canoodling in Civil War? Bucky Barnes and Wanda Maximoff Spotted Holding Hands

Article Text: The massively popular band, Civil War, is back in the headlines. This time it’s not because of their successful North American tour, Homecoming, but because frontman,  
Bucky Barnes, and keyboardist, Wanda Maximoff, are rumored to be dating!  
  
PHOTOS: Check out the pics of the two being cuddly  
  
Bucky has had several paramours (both boys and girls!) over the years but we’ve never heard of him dating one of his own. Will this mean happily ever after or complete disaster?  
  
If you’re lucky you might still be able to win tickets for this weekend’s Denver and Salt Lake City concerts.  
  
Click here for a list of… MORE HERE! >>]

-

[Image: A tweet from user @TheTonyStark (I AM TONY STARK)

Twitter caption: Wrong, wrong, wrong. Obviously it’s me and @BuckyBarnes who are secretly canoodling. Now where’s the best place for a date in Phoenix? #StarkBucks

-

They were speeding down Highway 89 when a soft explosion followed by a wet hissing slowed down the bus until it rolled to a stop.

“What happened?”

“I think the bus broke down.”

Tony pointed at Clint. “It was his fault.”

“‘cause that makes so much sense.”

Bucky ignored the bickering that was quickly turning into a wrestling matched and watched Natasha follow Phil out of the bus to see what was going on.

He turned to Steve, who had been playing a rousing game of twenty questions with him. “This is the beginning of one of those horror movies where a pampered group of city folks get eaten by cannibals in the middle of the woods.”

Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky’s assessment of the situation. “ _This_ is hardly the middle of the woods. And Sam and I are here so I say we have a fighting chance against cannibals.”

Tony fell to the floor with Clint — whose arms were locked around Tony’s neck in some sort of wrestling move.

“We can always offer some of you as a sacrifice,” Steve deadpanned.

Natasha climbed back into the bus, looking at Tony and Clint then choosing to ignore them.

“Okay, so here’s the bad news and the good news. The bad news: it looks like this is going to take a while. There’s a garage down the road and we’ll know how long from there. We can’t get the other bus to pick us up because it’s already in Vegas and they’ve started setting up. Besides Melinda’s almost past her driving hours.”

“Told you. Cannibals,” Bucky said elbowing Steve.

“The good news,” Natasha continued, “is that there’s a motel next to the gas station so we can get some rest.”

Clint broke his hold on Tony, who deliberately stepped on Clint as he got up. “Ouch! Wait, you’re saying we have a whole _unscheduled_ day to ourselves? Does anyone else feel weird not having Nat or Pepper dictate everything we do?”

“Let’s throw a party!” Tony gleeful smile turned sour when he looked out the bus and saw the sun shining. “It’s too early for a party.”

“Plus, there’s no one here,” Sam pointed out. “And by the looks of the gas station we passed, any liquor they have is going to burn a hole in your stomach.”

“What do people even do when the sun’s still out?”

“Go to the beach?” Bruce asked.

Wanda peered out the window. “There’s sand but not that kind of sand. I think we’re in the middle of a desert.”

“Google maps says we’re just an hour and a half from the Grand Canyon,” Bucky said, scrolling through his phone. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

Steve grinned at him. “You know what, I think I can make that happen.”

-

[Image: A tweet from user @TheTonyStark (I AM TONY STARK)

Twitter caption: Gonna have to wait before we go on that date. Dying in the desert can be sexy too, right?]

-

In the end, him and Steve were the only two “willing to brave the wilderness” as Tony had put it.

“It’s a national landmark,” Bucky pointed out with an eye roll. “We’re not camping out in the Rockies. There are probably a lot of tourists and hiking trails.”

“Hiking trails,” Tony had repeated with a shudder.

Bruce looked up from the book he was reading. “The most nature Tony’s ever seen is Central Park. Not that I’m one to talk.”

“You grew up a couple of block from where I did!”

“That’s why I said I wasn’t one to talk.”

“I think I speak for everyone here when I say that you and Steve should enjoy yourselves,” Clint had added with a wink that wasn’t at all discreet.

Bucky was secretly glad everyone was staying in. This way, he could spend time alone with Steve and avoid his bandmates teasing him every single minute.

Nat had teased Bucky plenty. He could imagine Sam had given Steve the same treatment.

“Are you planning on going into the canyon or just circling the rim?” Nat had asked foregoing subtlety for complete crassness.

Bucky gave her an unimpressed look.

“Fine,” she said, waving him away. “I’ll call if it looks like we can go earlier than expected. Although, with the way Phil was grumbling I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to stay the night.”

He and Steve made their escape without any more innuendos thrown at them. The cranky pick-up truck that Steve had borrowed wouldn’t have survived a trip all the way to Arizona. Hoped it would keep it together long enough to make it to the Grand Canyon and back.

“I can’t believe you got that desk clerk to lend you his truck. He barely looked like he wanted us to check in.”

Steve lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I saw the bumper sticker. I figured he was a vet or knew someone who was.”

“And you didn’t mind using that to your advantage.”

The grin that Steve gave him was full of mischief. “I figured either that or I could hotwire it.”

Bucky choked on a laugh. “I don’t know if I’m more surprised that you know how to hotwire a car or that you’d be willing to steal one.”

“Borrow,” Steve corrected. “We’ll bring it back.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky adjusted his sunglasses, enjoying the early morning air streaming through the open windows. He’d never been more grateful for a bus breaking down.

-

“Wake up. We’re here.” Steve’s voice was accompanied by him gently shaking Bucky’s arm.

Bleary from the unexpected nap, Bucky sat up and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes, squawking unattractively when his hand hit his sunglasses instead. They flew off his face like something out of a cartoon. He tried to grab it mid-air but only succeeded in sending them in Steve’s direction.

Steve chuckled at his antics. “You sure you’re awake?”

Bucky only gave him a half-glare because he definitely was not awake yet. He stared out the window, past the sea of cars, and grinned when he remembered where they were.

“C’mon,” Bucky said suddenly excited. “I’m buying you a keychain or one of those tacky tourist shirts.’

Steve laughed again, picking up the forgotten sunglasses and putting it back on Bucky’s face. “Wouldn’t wanna expose your secret identity.”

The gesture was so surprisingly intimate that Bucky felt his stomach swoop like he had taken a step down the stairs only to find out the last step wasn’t there.

“You saying you’re ashamed to be seen with me?”

“Nope,” Steve said, popping the p. “It would be nice to have you to myself is all.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at that. “Checked your contract yet?”

Steve grinned, all mischief and charm, and Bucky new without a doubt he was done fighting how he felt. “Nah. Figured some things are worth breaking the rules.”

-

A wall of information greeted them at the Visitor’s Center detailing schedules, hiking trails and warnings about death, dehydration, and mountain lions. What the fuck?

Maybe Tony was right.

“Hey, Mr. Army guy.” Bucky poked at Steve’s bicep. “You _do_ realize the only camping I’ve ever done is on Stark’s Malibu estate when Tony decided he wanted to pitch a tent near the pool?”

Steve shrugged. “What’s a little adventure?”

“An adventure is Clint shouting ‘do it for the ‘gram’ before dragging us into something Nat would consider reckless. I think even he would consider risking appendages being cut off because of scorpions and snakes as too much.”

“I don’t think scorpions have large enough pincers to cut off your finger. We’ll take the Bright Angel Point Trail. That’s a thirty minute hike.” Steve clasped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “And, Buck, I truly believe that you possess enough self-preservation that you wouldn’t touch a scorpion.”

“They sneak up on you and bite you, Steve. And then you get an infection and your arm rots off and you die.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “And Sam calls _me_ dramatic.”

“Hey, pal, of the the two of us you’re the one who keeps giving me inspirational speeches.”

Steve crossed his arms and scowled at Bucky which only served to make him look even more dramatic with his muscles flexed like that.

“Captain America and his muscles of Truth and Justice.” Bucky was laughing so hard, he had to support himself on his knees.

“I’d say fuck you but there are children here.”

“You already did.”

“Oh fuck.” Steve whispered, widening his eyes comically.

Bucky wiped away his tears of laughter, pushing Steve along. “Show me the way, Oh Captain, My Captain.”

-

If their first view of the Canyon was dazzling, the panoramic vista at Bright Angel Point was breathtaking.

Layers upon layers of color painted the cliffside. Like most things he found beautiful, Bucky saw music in the layers. Not just any music, but the music he played with the people he loved. The opulent reds and golds of Tony's guitar riff; Clint's bass and its deep and resounding purples; the radiant dancing scarlet of Wanda's fingers flying on her keyboard; the vivid greens of the shrubbery that smashed through every layer when Bruce played the drums.

Sprinkled all over them were gleaming dots of mineral deposits, reflecting almost silver in the sunlight.

It was them. The band, their music. Together. At that moment, all his doubts and insecurities quieted and he understood that the band wasn’t just his family. He was their family too.

“You look happy, Buck.”

“You know what? I really am. Thank you for this.”

Steve smiled bright as the sun and twice as blinding.

-

They wandered through the trails some more, stopping for a couple of minutes until Steve got antsy and they got moving again.

After the fifth time that happened, Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and anchored him to where Bucky was resting in one of the more secluded areas. “Jeez, are you even able to sit still for a second?”

“Of course I can,” Steve said defensively, his cheeks going slightly pink.

Bucky gave him a look.

“I spent a lot of my childhood sick at home, so no, I don’t like it,” he conceded, “but I _can_ if I wanted.”

Laughing, Bucky said. “I dare you to stop moving for five minutes without doing anything.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I double dare you.”

“Fine.”

Bucky stayed quiet, watching as Steve took in the view for a good three minutes before he started shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“How have I never noticed this?” Bucky asked, amused. “So much of your time as security is to stand and wait.”

“We watch out of for threats so technically I was doing something.”

“Instead of just sitting quietly and enjoying the view?”

“Look, pal, I’m a city kid just like you. There’s only so much nature I can appreciate.”

“Then shut up and take a picture with me so we can move.”

Bucky threw a hand over Steve’s shoulder, leaning his head so that the sides of their foreheads were touching.

“Say Bucky!” Steve said, making Bucky laugh right before his thumb hit the button.

“You ruined the picture,” Bucky griped even before he checked the photo. It didn’t come out too bad. Steve was grinning widely at the camera while Bucky head was tipped forward, cheeks bright, his eyes crinkled with laughter.

“It looks good!” Steve said staring at the photo as well. Then he added, “Really brings out your forehead.”

Bucky pushed him away, but Steve caught his wrist and pulled him towards him.

“Take another one.”

“You’re just going to ruin it again.”

“I won’t I promise. I’ll stand really still. I won’t move if you don’t.”

Steve leaned in so close that Bucky could feel the puffs of his breath against his lips, close enough to count the freckles that barely dusted Steve’s cheeks. Bucky could make out every curl of those goddamned eyelashes as Steve’s eyes lowered his gaze to Bucky’s lips.

The corners of Steve’s mouth raised in a smirk. “I thought you wanted to take a photo?”

Fucking Rogers was _baiting_ him.

“You are such a little shit,” he whispered, taking Steve’s challenge for what it was.

Bucky curled his fingers at what little give Steve’s tight shirt would allow, pulled him forward and did the only thing he knew would shut Steve up.

His lips found Steve’s. He half-expected Steve to let Bucky lead the kiss. Steve’s tongue parted his lips, licking into his mouth and Bucky’s brain fizzled out completely. He should have known that Steve wouldn’t back down.

The kiss was anything but tentative, probably more intense than their very public setting warranted, but Bucky couldn’t care less. Not when Steve’s mouth was hot on his and his strong arms pulled Bucky close. Bucky’s own fingers wound their way into Steve’s hair, deepening the kiss.

 

_(a sketch of Bucky and Steve kissing. Bucky's hand is on Steve's chest, fingernails painted in different colors)_

 

When they finally pulled away, Bucky’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. He pressed his forehead against Steve’s, breathing with him. Steve’s endlessly blue eyes stared into his and Bucky’s breath left him all over again.

He barely had a second before they were kissing again. Softer and slower but just as sweet.

Pushing away first this time, Bucky chased Steve’s lips for one last kiss before placing his head in Steve’s shoulder with a laugh. “I guess neither of us are very good at being still.”

“Buck?” Steve said, against his ear. There’s something you need to know.”

Bucky raised his head at the suddenly serious tone of Steve’s voice. “What?”

“You moved first.”

Despite the fact that Steve was both a punk and a little shit, Bucky couldn’t help laughing at the absurdly pleased look on Steve’s face.

And, because it had worked so well the last time, he pulled Steve in for another kiss just to shut him up.

-

[Image: An Instagram post from user BuckyBarnes showing a photo of the Grand Canyon.

Instagram caption: Life-changing (winking emoticon)

 


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky didn’t expect to see the whole band hanging out with Natasha when he and Steve returned from their trek.

Steve took one look at the group’s expectant faces and stepped back. “I think I’m going to stay out here.”

Natasha took pity on him. “Sam and the others are in the room next door.”

Steve gave Bucky a good luck pat on the shoulder and left him to the hounds. Traitor.

Tony at least waited until the door was fully closed before strumming on the guitar he was holding and singing, “Bucky and Steve sitting on a tree. K - I - S - S - I - N - G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes gorgeous muscle-y gaybies and I will be the godfather.”

“Who said you’ll be godfather?” Clint objected. “I’m obviously better godfather material than you.”

“Neither of you are any kind of godfather material.” Nat proclaimed.

“Was he a good kisser?” Wanda asked. “He looks like he’d be a good kisser.”

“I agree,” Bruce added. ”I have three PHDs, so it’s a purely scientific observation.”

“Would have had more if I hadn’t wrangle him into the band,” Tony said proudly.

“Was there moooore than kissing?” Clint asked like the teenager he was.

“He’s literally on the other side of these very thin walls,” Bucky hissed.

“If you didn’t want to spill why come here at all?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I came to talk to Nat, obviously. I didn’t know the new staff of TMZ was going to be here.”

“Is this about you going full Dude in Distress because Natasha already talked to Fury,” Tony informed him.

Bucky gave Nat a look that hopefully conveyed his indignation for gossiping about him.

“They were concerned Fury would make trouble,” She informed him with a shrug. “He said that as long as Steve still feels inclined to take a bullet for you, then he emphatically does not care.”

“Good old, Nick,” Clint said, amused.

Tony whirled at Natasha. “Speaking of our fearless leader: why is Pepper suddenly flying with him to California a week ahead of schedule? He can’t have her. I mean he  _ can _ if Pepper wanted him, but then I’d be very sad.“

Natasha rolled her eyes, pushing Tony away with her foot. “I was going to tell you later when things were less _ SteveandBucky.  _ Since you brought it up: the press received PR releases saying Hydra was going to be a part of the SHIELD Academy fundraising concert. Now everyone’s expecting them to be there.”

Bucky scoffed. “Three guesses as to how that happened and the first two don’t count.”

“That’s why Fury and Pepper are there to do damage control. Kicking Hydra out of the line-up without notice would just give Pierce a chance to turn this into a bigger mess than it already is.”

A tense silence descended on them, which was interrupted by Wanda reaching out to Bucky. “You know—”

Bucky shook his head. “We’ve been looking forward to this since the start of the tour. The camp is for  _ our _ charities. We’re not going to let Hydra take over SHIELD Academy. And I’m not letting Rumlow or Pierce take anything more from me.”

“I promise I will do my best not to punch anyone in the nose,” Bruce said solemnly.

Clint made face then said, “Nope. I can’t do it. Sorry, as long as there are no kids around someone’s getting punched.

“I won’t be of any actual help in a fight—” Tony pulled out his credit card, “—but I’m ready to bail everyone out.”

“I’m very good with my hands,” Wanda volunteered. 

Bucky looked at Natasha to help wrangle his bandmates, but she only shrugged in response.

“Would it really be anyone’s fault if Rumlow was accidentally electrocuted by a loose wire?” Natasha asked. “Not a fatal one. Low voltage. Like a spider bite.”

“You’re all hooligans,” Bucky said with a fond laugh. “How about we concentrate on what we’re actually good at and make some music.” He turned to Wanda, handing her the small notebook he always kept in his back pocket. “Remember that tune you’ve been humming on and off? What do you think of these lyrics.”

Wanda read over the words, her smile going softer as she went. “This is beautiful.”

“Someone’s inspired,” Clint teased, reading over Wanda’s shoulder.

“I was thinking of having you sing some of the parts. It would be a good song for a duet.”

“I feel you’d prefer to sing this with someone else,” Wanda teased as well. “But I would be honored.”

Bucky resolutely ignored the heat crawling up his neck that signaled he was blushing and gestured for the guitar Tony had been playing. He rolled his eyes when Tony handed over like he was presenting Bucky with a sword.

“You know how I write, it’s not just a love song. At least not to just about a single someone.” Bucky gave them all a small smile, then he started playing. The cold steel of the strings against his fingertips quickly warming as he strummed.

Natasha snuggled against Clint while Bruce listened to Bucky for a second before using the hotel’s bedside table to tap out a beat.

Bucky’s heart swelled, remembering that this was exactly how they’d started. Hanging out in a room and creating music, inspired by an almost naive belief in their success.

 

_ (Sketch of Bucky sitting, playing a red guitar) _

 

He wasn’t lying when he said that the song was more than just about romance. It was about being safe with the people you loved, about the steadfast belief that you were meant to live your dreams that came with youth, about eventually learning that life isn’t simple, but with the right people, it could be full.

It was about the band as much as it was about his burgeoning feelings for Steve.

Bucky sang the last line, the last notes on the guitar fading into silence.

Tony was the first to break it.

“I think I speak for everyone here when I say. Damn, Barnes. You should fall in love more often.”

“Not in love,” Bucky mumbled. He didn’t deny that while he might not be yet, he might well be on his way.

-

[A Twitter post from user @TheTonyStark (I AM TONY STARK) with a  photo of Tony’s guitar 

Twitter caption: What could we possibly be up doing?]

-

As soon as they were alone in their room in Arizona, Bucky had Steve pinned against the wall, both of them grabbing at each other in a frantic kiss.

The lack of privacy had driven them crazy. Between the motel's extremely thin walls to sharing space with 8 or so people on the bus once it got repaired, they couldn't do more than hold hands or steal a couple of kisses.

Steve pushed him towards the bed, and Bucky went willingly, lost in the sensation of Steve’s lips on his. His brain didn’t catch up on what was happening until he felt the soft comforter against his back.

“Wait, wait,” he muttered between kisses. Much as he didn't want to stop, he needed to get both of them on the same page. Bucky put a little more strength when he pushed Steve away. “We should — we should talk.”

His hands stayed on Steve’s shoulders, not willing to let go just yet.

“Talking would be good,” Steve said, the lower timbre of his voice sending delightful shivers through Bucky.

He took a second to catch his breath, trying not to drown in the way Steve’s usually sky blue eyes were now the color of the deep ocean. It punched the air out of him making him groan. “But that means I have to stop kissing you and I don’t think I’m ready to do that yet.”

“Kissing then.” Steve sounded just as breathless as Bucky. “Just kissing.”

“ _ Just _ kissing,” Bucky agreed, pulling Steve down and slotting their lips together.

It felt amazing, not just because Bucky hadn’t kissed anyone in a really long time, but because it was  _ Steve _ .  He ran his hands over Steve’s back and up again, burying them in Steve’s hair, and scratching blunt fingernails against his scalp.

Steve moaned into Bucky's mouth, ending their kiss abruptly, moving away from him until he was flat on the bed.

Bucky times his breath with Steve’s, forcing himself to ignore the hundred or so worst reasons Steve would stop kissing him.

Finally, Steve raised his head and gave Bucky a quick kiss, laughing softly. “So we’re taking things slow?”

“Is that okay with you?” he asked, turning away to stare at the ceiling so he wouldn’t have to see the inevitable rejection. His needs weren't Steve's. Who knew if he could roll with Bucky's request.

“Woah, woah.” Bucky’s uncertainty must have shown because Steve tipped Bucky’s face until they were eye to eye. “I can  _ hear _ you thinking. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

Steve kissed him, slow and deep. It was nothing like their first one, all excitement and nerves, or their second which was driven by need and desperation. This time, pulled at something deep inside Bucky, waking it up as if it had spent decades asleep covered in ice. Bucky had forgotten what it felt to trust someone so completely that you’d be willing to crack open your chest for them.

Steve’s fingers played with Bucky’s jaw as they parted. “Slow is okay with me.”

“You realize even just this —“ Bucky gestured between them. “—it’s not exactly easy. "There have been several people who realized dating someone famous wasn't half as fun as they thought it'd be. "

Steve propped himself on his elbow, head resting on his fist as he stared at Bucky. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. I’ve been in a war and even I can see how rough your world is. Half the time, people put you on a pedestal and the other half they’re ripping you apart. You’ve been put through hell by people you trusted and, somehow, you’ve remained kind and compassionate through all of it.”

Smiling at him a little cheekier this time, Steve said, “I don’t know about you, but that’s worth being called your boytoy.”

_ ‘Boyfriend,’ _ Bucky’s brain suggested, but it was way too soon. Instead, he ran his thumb over Steve’s cheek, drawing him in for a kiss that Bucky hoped spoke volumes for him.

When Steve pulled away again, it was with a playful nip at Bucky’s bottom lip.

“And if you want to keep this just between us for now that’s fine by me too. I lived through “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. The world can think you and Wanda are dating all they want. I can be your… mistress?”

Bucky made a face at the word. If there was one thing that was a definite mood killer it was infidelity, even if it was fake.

“Booty call?” Steve considered, reading the look on Bucky’s face correctly.

“Is it a booty call when you’re always following me anyway?”

Steve’s eyes twinkled as he rattled off suggestions. “Butt buddy? Sugarbaby? Sex monkey?”

“Oh my God stop talking.” Bucky was still laughing when his mouth met Steve’s for a kiss.

That was how Bucky spent the an hour: making out with Steve, then taking the coldest shower of his life.

-

[An article from the website Rolling Stone.com

Headline text: Civil War to host their first ever charity music camp, SHIELD Academy

Article text: Civil War will host their first ever music camp called SHIELD Academy in Malibu, California. The music camp is the brainchild of the five band members and are open to both fans and a selection of participants chosen via Civil War’s various charities.   
  
One of the objectives of the music camp is to teach attendees how to form community groups to help others learn music. The target audience being underprivileged children.   
  
The five-day camp will be followed by a fundraising concert. Joining Civil War are Black Panther, Guardians of the Galaxy, Hydra...]

-


	9. Chapter 9

Hooting and hollering welcomed them as the bus rolled into the location they had rented for the week long event.

Bucky hadn’t been able to wipe the grin from his face since they started seeing trees and mountains instead of cityscape. He may never be entirely comfortable with the wilderness, but this was  _ their _ camp. Everything they had been talking about for the past year was finally coming true.

“There was a dog in our neighborhood who looked just like that when he needed to pee,” Steve teased.

“Laugh now. Just wait until my family gets their mitts on you.”

“Parents love me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“My subjects, I have arrived!” Tony cried as he threw open the bus doors, hamming it up and bowing for the gathered volunteers and personnel. They weren’t expecting any actual campers until the next day.

“If it behooves your highness to get your ass out of the way.” Clint shoved at Tony, beaming when he saw Laura standing with the kids and then running at them full tilt. Nat followed after him, catching Lila as she threw herself at her.

“Auntie Nat,” she yelled, hugging her middle.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Clint asked, before finally getting his own hug from Lila.

Bucky grinned at the sight, grabbing Steve’s hand to drag him over to where his own family was standing. His parents, Becca, and the twins were wearing matching band shirts with his face on it because his family was just  _ that _ embarrassing.

Steve squeezed his hand before letting go before Bucky was quickly engulfed by a series of hugs that left him breathless with laughter.

“You’d think you haven’t seen me in months.” Bucky joked, the smile on his face damn near splitting his face open. 

Becca jokingly punched his shoulder. “We’re providing free labor here, Barnes. Least you could do is pretend you’re grateful.”

“You are not going to  _ believe  _ what Becca did,” one of the twins cut-in, crossing her arms smugly.

“I didn’t do anything!” 

“Oh, you’re such a liar. Pepper is going to kill you.”

Bucky basked in the familiar bickering.

“Girls, I know we’re outdoors. Use indoor voices please?” his dad asked with a mock long-suffering sigh at his daughters.

Seeming to decide that on the contrary they weren’t making  _ enough _ noise, Bucky’s mom hollered, “Anthony Stark, you too famous now to say hello?”

Tony’s head swiveled to and fro, Pepper next him was calmly giving instructions to some volunteers. He gave Winifred a sheepish grin as he walked over and hugged her. “Didn’t wanna pull focus from the, well, Bucky’s not exactly the prodigal son. Strictly speaking I’m the more prodigious of the two of us.”

George patted Tony on the shoulder when Winifred finally released him. “No matter, you’re always welcome to raise the sound levels generated by this family.”

Bucky turned back to Steve, who was standing away from the chaos, but his mom noticed him first.

“I’m sorry we’re being so rude.” Winifred gave Steve a warm smile, offering her hand. “I’m Winifred. I don’t think we’ve met?”

Steve shook her hand. “I’m Steve. I’m new to the tour.”

“ _ Bootyguard _ ,” Tony fake coughed, wincing for real when Bucky elbowed him in the ribs. “He was a captain in the army. So he’s very good at his job.”

“Which is security,” Bucky said before Tony could spill that he had been assigned a personal bodyguard. There were some things he just didn’t want his family to worry about. Bucky gestured to the rest of the group. “Dad’s name is George, and these are my sisters, Becca and these identical creatures are Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

Steve shook everyone’s hands and then cocked an eyebrow. “Dr. Seuss?” he asked referring to the nicknames.

The twins rolled her eyes at Bucky. “Our brother thinks it’s funny. I’m Elizabeth but Lizzie’s fine.”

“I’m Madison. Not after a US politician like  _ James _ —” It was Bucky’s turn to roll her eyes at them. “—but after good ol’ Madison Square Garden.”

“Good name,” Steve said with a grin. “I’d have gone with Ebbets. It was my grandad’s favorite place.”

“There’s a whole story there,” Winifred said with a laugh. “But I’m sure you’re all tired from the drive and would like to rest.”

Bucky was about to agree when Becca’s eyes suddenly widened. She pointed at Steve, “You’re the guy from the video!”

The twins looked at Steve too then raised their eyebrows at the same time, looking very much like the Dr. Seuss characters Bucky had nicknamed them. “Oooooh, the  _ video _ .” 

“What video?” George asked, looking to his wife for an explanation. Winifred wasn’t looking at him though, she was staring at Steve, a delighted realization dawning on her face.

Winifred smiled her most charming smile and hooked her hand around Steve’s arm. “You know what, dear? Maybe we should get to know each other a little before everyone gets busy.”

Steve threw Bucky a terrified look but didn’t try to escape Winifred’s grasp. Bucky grimaced in apology, helpless as his mother commandeered Steve.

George drew his eyebrows together in confusion as his wife led Steve away with the rest of the girls trailing after them. “What just happened?”

“Bucky has forsaken the betrothal you and my father had arranged and decided he’d rather  _ tap the Cap _ ,” Tony said helpfully.

George looked back at the direction where the his family was headed, cocking his head as if he was actually evaluating Steve then gave Bucky a thumbs up much to his mortification. “Good job, son”

Bucky his his face with his hands. “I hate you all.” 

-

Groaning loudly, Bucky let himself faceplant on the bed. “I take it back. My family sucks and I’m okay being far, far away from them.”

Maria had assigned them a small cottage for themselves. Thankfully, it was a considerable distance from the bigger cottages where his family was staying.

They had spent the afternoon at the mess hall helping with various tasks that still needed to be finished while his family decided they need to know everything there was to know about Steve.

By the time they were done and were allowed to clean up for dinner and the big pre-opening meeting, Bucky wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve’s patience had just about worn thin. He loved his family, but they could be a bit much. 

The bed near his head dipped as Steve sat, carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “It wasn’t that bad. It was actually kind of nice.”

Bucky moved his head so he could look at Steve who had a wistful, slightly sad smile on his face.

“You miss your mom.” It wasn’t a question. Bucky couldn’t imagine how it would feel to no longer hear his mom’s too loud voice, or his dad’s quiet chuckles, or his sisters’ teasing.

He sat up, maneuvering himself so that both his legs were on either side of Steve’s hips, and wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle so that his back was flush against Bucky’s chest.

“I’m fine.” Steve’s hands rested against Bucky’s wrists. “But you’re right, I do miss her. Your family really loves you, Buck.”

Bucky snorted, his breath blowing against the hair on Steve’s nape. “They obviously loved you too.”

Steve twisted in his arms so that he could catch Bucky’s lips in a kiss which Bucky greedily reciprocated. His tongue darted out, licking at the seam of Steve’s lips, and they both moaned as their tongues met, hot and insistent.

They should stop. They should stop soon, but Bucky was greedy and wanted more despite their agreement to take things slow. 

Almost as if Steve had read Bucky’s mind, he pulled back, pressing kisses against Bucky’s jawline and down his neck, nipping slightly at the place where his neck and shoulder meet. Bucky’s mouth fell open with an embarrassingly desperate whine. It took him a moment before he realized that Steve had stopped and was grinning at him wickedly like the little punk that he was.

“We should probably get ready for dinner.”

Bucky pushed at Steve’s shoulder happy to see him fall out of the bed, partly as retaliation and partly to move his hips (and the very obvious beginnings of his erection) away so that Steve wouldn’t have even more reason to gloat.

Laughing as he picked himself up off the floor, Steve leaned down to give Bucky one last kiss. “Seriously, if we take too long, your family’s going to think we’re up to something. I don’t think I’m ready for sex jokes from anyone’s parents.”

“Especially since we’re not having any,” Buck said mournfully. Going slow was what he knew he needed but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

“We’ll get there. And I promise it’ll be worth it,” Steve said, giving Bucky a deep kiss that hinted at what was yet to come. “Now, come on. Captain America might sound virtuous but Steve Rogers can only take so much.”

Bucky grinned, stupidly happy at Steve’s admission. “As long as everyone knows who’s really corrupting who.”

-

[Image: An Instagram post from user BuckyBarnes with a photo of Bucky’s family wearing matching shirts.

Instagram caption: Of course they would. Only my family. #TheBarnesBunch]

-

Dinner was nothing but chaos of the fun kind. Adding to the excitement was the arrival of the other bands helping out with the camp.

“You’re on the welcoming committee,” Tony had told Bucky as soon as he and Steve had arrived at the mess hall. All five members of the band had agreed to run the pre-opening day orientation. “Bruce, Wanda and Clint will be my lovely assistants while I play the gracious master of ceremonies.”

Steve had raised an eyebrow at that. “Why do I feel like we should get you a red coat and a top hat?”

“Red  _ is _ my color,” Tony had agreed. “Sadly, you’re gonna miss out on witnessing my greatness because Sam said he needs you at Nat’s cabin. Okoye’s taking over Buckyguard duties.”

In the half hour since then, Bucky chatted with several of the volunteers on and off, making a point to say hello to everyone and thank them for their time. When T'Challa and the rest of his band, Black Panther, arrived, Bucky gathered T'Challa and his sister Shuri into a bear hug. Then he gave a slightly more restrained greeting to Nakia and M'Baku.

“I still can’t believe you guys flew all the way here,” Bucky told T'Challa, steering him a little away from the mini-reunion that was happening between Shuri, Nakia, M’baku and Okoye. She had once been part of their own security team before temporarily joining Sam’s team on the tour. Black Panther was her family the way Civil War was Bucky’s.

“It is for a good cause.” T'Challa laid a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “And we are always happy to help an old friend.”

“That goes both ways. If you need anything. Anything at all.”

“Ah.” T'Challa cocked his head, probably remembering a time when Bucky could barely help himself, let alone anyone else. “Am I correct to assume the White Wolf has rested long enough?”

Bucky laughed lightly at the nickname. It had been Shuri’s doing. Calling him a white wolf amongst the wolf in sheep’s clothing that was Rumlow and Pierce. “I think so.”

“I look forward to hearing that story when we sit down to eat.”

They were halfway through their meal when a loud “whoop!” made heads turn towards the entrance where a man with light brown hair had appeared.

“I see The Guardians have arrived,” Okoye said, pursing her lips in distaste.

“Don’t be so dull, Okoye. Quill is just spirited,” Nakia said with a laugh.

Bucky excused himself to greet the other band, the six of them looking like a ragtag group of misfits.

“You ready to part with the beauty yet?” Rocket, their guitarist, asked referring to a limited run Gibson SG Bucky’s grandfather had given him.

Bucky mock glared at him. “Not in your life.”

“Can’t hurt to try.”

There was a grumbling from Groot that Quill translated for Bucky. “He’s looking for grub. The plane ride from Missouri didn’t sit well with him.”

Bucky led the way, getting them seated with heaping plates of food in front of them just as Tony’s voice came over the speakers.

“Is this thing on?” Tony pulled at the cord, whipping it in front of him. “Jeez. There are going to be children here. Shouldn’t our equipment be baby proof? Someone remind me to donate a couple of cordless mics.”

“Move it along, Stark. Let’s end this sometime before midnight,” Bucky yelled, receiving a finger from Tony for his trouble.

“Since the grandpa over there needs his beauty sleep, we’re going to keep this short and sweet. Most of you know this but for those who don’t, we like feeding our humongous egos so there will be five teams: Mine, Bucky’s, Clint’s, Wanda’s and Bruce’s. Our teams will have two instructors, which is where our friends come in.” He nodded towards Black Panther and Guardians of the Galaxy. “Each instructor will have five kids each. Their mission, if they choose to accept it, is to teach the little munchkins how to compose and play one song - either a cover or an original if they can swing it - for the recital on Day Five.”

Tony gestured at Wanda, Bruce, and Clint. They started to give out printed programs to the volunteers.

“I wanted to just send these to your phones, save the trees and all that, but Maria insisted  _ handing _ them out. Anyway, you’ll find the whole schedule there.”

Tony paused, waiting until everyone had a copy, humming the tune for  _ Jeopardy _ as he waited.

“Okay! As you can see, there will also be classes during the first three afternoons. Civil War will do intro classes for campers who want to try different roles.”

He peered at his phone, scowling at the tiny screen. “Another thing we’re adding next year is a projector. Or people who can make more readable layouts.”

“Now who’s the grandpa?” Bucky asked, enjoying his self-assigned role as heckler.

Tony rolled his eyes at Bucky. “ _ Anyway _ , as I said earlier, the recital will happen in the afternoon of Day Five. There aren’t prizes for the best song or the best performance. This isn’t some cheesy reality competition, people.  _ But _ there will be a graduation ceremony of sorts on the afternoon of Day Six followed by a concert featuring Civil War, of course. Also, Black Panther and Guardians of the Galaxy. Maybe some of the lesser known bands if there's any time left."

Plenty of people understood Tony's meaning. There had been some murmurs after reading of Hydra's inclusion in the lineup. More than one person disliked Rumlow and Pierce already, even if they didn't know the whole story. The majority of the volunteers were Bucky's people after all.

“Principal Stark,” Clint called out. “Is the curfew for  _ everyone _ ? What time is lunch?”

Wanda joined in. “You really should be more specific. For the children.”

Tony rolled his eyes at them, giving them a glare that said he knew full well what they were doing.

“Since _ some people _ doesn’t seem to know how to read, let’s go through the schedule per day. If anyone has questions, just yell them out. We’ve already given up all pretense of civility anyway. Except for you, Barnes,” Tony said pointing at Bucky. “You’re getting a timeout. Go find your boyfriend.”

Bucky laughed, not even minding when more than a couple of eyes looked over at him curiously. Tomorrow was the first day of camp and it was going to be fantastic.

-

[ Image: A twitter post from user @CivilWarBand (CIVIL WAR) showing a photo of everyone on gym risers

Twitter caption: Meet the SHIELD Academy organizers and volunteers! We tried taking a class photo but none of these jerks would sit still.]

-

Day One of the camp started bright, early and noisy as hell.

The fact that the campers were teenagers and college kids gave Bucky fresh appreciation for the counselors in the camps they had gone to when he was a kid. 

“Next year we’re automating everything. I’m exhausted just hearing about this,” Tony said after Natasha had given them an update on what was happening at the registration table.

They were all hanging out at Bucky’s family’s cabin while his family and his sisters were out trying to contain the mayhem. Maria had told the band to stay put until orientation began. If only so the kids could settle down.

“Let’s survive this one first,” Bruce said, dependably level-headed despite the flash of excitement in his eyes. It was mirrored on everyone’s faces. Hell yeah they were doing this again next year.

“I thought Fury was going to be here?” Bucky hadn’t seen him since they arrived, although he knew that Steve had met with him last night. Steve had said he wasn’t allowed to talk about it and, as frustrating as it was, Bucky knew better than to force him.

“He’s around.”

Bucky looked at Nat and she gave him a reassuring smile. Whatever was up, Fury was on it and Bucky just had to trust him.

Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s knee, pressing lightly. Everyone there already knew they were together but, it wasn’t like either of them were big on PDA. He pressed his leg against Steve’s enjoying his presence.

“Get a room!” Tony heckled.

Bucky flipped him off, making a point to sit on Steve’s lap which Steve responded to with a squawk at the sudden weight.

“I’d say you should be the better man, but I’m not complaining,” Steve said, shifting so that Bucky was more comfortably seated. 

“You guys are so cute,” Wanda said with a sigh.

“Adorable,” Nat said, without looking up from her phone as she stood up. “But we gotta go, Steve. You’re a human shield, not a mail order bride. We’ve got work to do.”

Bucky scowled as he moved off Steve’s lap. He had been looking forward to having Steve around for his class that afternoon.

“Any plans to update us on what’s happening?” Bucky asked Nat.

Nat hummed noncommittally. “We’ll find you.”

Squeezing his shoulder as an apology, Steve left with Nat. Bucky took out his sober pick from his admittedly too-tight jeans. He began flipping it across his left hand's knuckles, his mind focusing on the upcoming afternoon class.

-

“You should sit down,” Okoye told Bucky as he paced back and forth across the small room that would house his first class.

It wasn’t like Bucky hadn’t talked in front of people before. He was used to convention panels,  interviews, had hosted a show or two in his career, but this was different. These kids were here to learn from him. From  _ him _ . 

“Or you can keep pacing, that would be okay too.” Okoye said, giving Bucky her most judgmental eyeroll. Okoye was great, but she wasn’t exactly the type to hold anyone’s hand.

By the time the twenty or so attendees trickled in, Bucky was sweating bullets.

“Hey, everyone,” Bucky said once everyone had sat down, his voice coming out embarrassingly strangled. He straddled the nearby bar stool so everyone could see him, cleared his throat, then tried again. “So you’re here to learn about singing. Have any of you sang had any singing experience?”

A smattering of hands went up.

“Have any of you sang in front of family or friends before?”

More hands went up this time.

Bucky nodded then smiled cheekily. “Have any of you sang in the shower?”

The question was met with laughter and everyone’s hands went up.

“Okay,” Bucky said, giving the kids a reassuring smile. “That means that everyone here does have singing experience. You just need to learn how to do it in front of an audience. Before we start, do you have any questions or anything specific you’d like to learn about?”

“Mr. Barnes, sir?” A skinny, brown haired kid had his hand extended into the air, his brown eyes huge and guileless.

“Bucky’s fine.”

“Mr. Bucky —”

“Just Bucky,” he corrected, laughing slightly. “What’s your name?”

“Peter Parker.”

“How about you call me Bucky and I won’t call you Mr. Parker or any other made up name.” Bucky winked at him gamely. “What’s your question?”

“Bucky,” Peter eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he was talking so informally. “I read in an interview that you had a problem with anxiety and I’m kind of the same so how do you do what you do and not be scared all the time?”

Bucky tapped his fingers on the back of the chair as he thought about his answer.

“I’m not going to pretend that you guys don’t know my history,” he started slowly, unsure how honest he was supposed to be in front of kids and opting for discretion, “which means that options that other people have, like anxiety medication, aren’t available to me. I’m lucky that I have people who I’m able to talk to when I need them.”

He truly was. Between his family, Dum Dum, Nat, Sam, his bandmates and now Steve, he had a lot of great people on his corner. He only hoped these kids had the same thing in theirs.

“But, when I’m trapped in my head and unable to find a way to reach out, a friend taught me a way to help me process. First, I ask myself, on a scale of one to ten, how important is the reason I’m doing what I’m doing? Then I rate my fear on the same scale and I compare them.”

Bucky help up a hand, “My love for music,” then he held up his other hand lower than the other “Stage fright. Chances are your first answer will always be higher on the scale than the second. That’s how I know that it’s worth it. It doesn’t make the anxiety go away, but it helps me understand why I’m putting myself through it.”

An equally scrawny girl with unruly hair raised her hand. “What happens if your fear scores higher?”

“Then maybe you need to think about your motivations for doing what you wanna do. Make sure that you’re taking care of yourself first and foremost.”

He immediately liked her. He distinctly remembered the same ‘fuck the police’ look on Steve’s teenage photo.

“Good advice,” she said, in a slightly impressed tone as if she hadn’t expected him to give an insightful answer. 

Grinning, Bucky said, “Thanks, I’ll tell my friend. He loves telling me he told me so.”

-

[Image: A Snap from user PeterParkour showing a photo of Bucky. A rockstar sticker and a Snapchat caption is superimposed on top of the photo.]

Snap caption: I’m learning from Bucky Barnes!!! How cool is this?]

-

Bucky looked up when he heard footsteps approaching. He smiled when he saw it was Steve walking towards them. Steve nodded at Okoye who had been shadowing Bucky in front of the campfire while everyone else grabbed ingredients for s’mores.

Okoye smiled at both them cheekily but didn’t say anything as she left. 

“How was your class?” Steve handed Bucky a roasting stick with a fluffy white marshmallow skewered in the end.

“Better than expected. Missed you being there.”

“You know how it is when you’re in demand,” Steve teased.

“I wouldn’t know. There’s only one person that’s had my attention recently,” Bucky teased back, enjoying the way Steve’s cheeks tinged even pinker.

Steve threaded his fingers with Bucky’s, taking advantage of the dim light that surrounded them. The simple action pulled at the chords in his chest, making Bucky’s heart sing the same tender melody it had been playing since he met Steve.

Afterwards, Bucky watched the light of the flames play across the profile of Steve’s face. Shadows accentuated his features, highlighting the softness of his mouth and the warmth of his eyes. 

Bucky was falling in love with Steve Rogers and he was absolutely okay with it.

Sticking to their tradition of doing things backwards, Bucky asked. “After all this, you wanna go on a date sometime? We don’t have to go anywhere public if you don’t want to deal with all the gossip.”

Steve’s answering nonchalant shrug was perfect. “I’ll let my people, call your people.”

Grinning like a loon, Bucky pulled at their intertwined hands so that he could settle against Steve’s side.

Correction. Bucky was falling in love with a little shit and he was absolutely giddy with it.

-

The rest of the camp days went by in a blur and, on the night before the last day, more than  handful of them were a little emotional.

“You’re not going to cry are you?” Bruce asked Tony warily.

Tony shrugged. “Don’t bet against it or anything. I really came close when they presented me with this.” He pulled out a rounded triangular flashlight encased in a metal holder. “They said that Peter kid made it. I’m still not sure if it’ll explode if I turn it on.”

“I got these.” Clint placed a handful of painted stone arrowheads on the table in front of them. “I definitely cried.”

“My group cooked for me.” Wanda shook her head as she laughed. “It was inedible, but it’s the thought that counts.”

Bruce smiled, fond. “I have a new Moringa plant.” When the others looked at him in confusion he added. “Because it’s also known as a drumstick tree.”

“What did you get, Barnes?”

Bucky took out his phone and showed them the photo of his gift. It was met with even more confusion than Bruce’s plant.

“They got you a stuffed goat?”

“Because according to my kids I’m the — “

“Oh God, don’t say it. You’ve corrupted these kids with your sense of humor.”

He leaned back and grinned, not bothering to mention that he had gotten five and he had named them after each of his bandmates plus Steve.

-

[ Image: An Instagram post from user BuckyBarne showing a photo of five stuffed goats ]

Instagram caption: Meet my new kids. A gift from the real greatest of all time, the kids of #TeamBucky]

 


	10. Chapter 10

It was quiet when Bucky ducked backstage with Steve. Everyone else was either upfront or at the behind the stage area waiting for the recital to start. He couldn’t keep himself from wanting to do some last minute checks.

“You know that Scott has everything under control right?”

“I’m just making sure he didn’t forget the right-handed bass. He’s been used to Clint’s for so long.”

Steve shook his head, giving him an exasperated but fond look. “No one would ever guess you’re the eldest child, Buck. It’s not obvious at all.”

Bucky opened his mouth to mock Steve of all people mocking him about going above and beyond when a third voice cut in.

“Always a mother hen, huh, Barnes?”

The instinct to clench his fists was automatic. Rumlow was standing at the end of the hallway, walking towards them slowly in a threatening swagger.

“Who’s your buddy, Bucky?” Rumlow asked, practically spitting with contempt. 

Bucky glowered, absolutely done with this bullshit. “No one you deserve to know.”

He moved closer to Steve, who put a calming hand on the small of his back. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Rumlow.

“Banging the help, Bucky?” Rumlow smiled at Steve, all teeth. “You gotta be real gentle with him. He gets weepy at night when he’s had a little too much.”

Icicles formed up Bucky’s spine even before he turned around knowing exactly who would be there.

Pierce smiled at them, benevolent. “Brock, that’s enough. We were all friends once. No reason we all can’t be friends again.”

“We have different definitions of the word  _ friend _ ,” Bucky gritted out.

Steve shifted beside him and, in response, Rumlow fell into place behind Pierce like the loyal dog that he was. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes from Pierce’s. Ice blue eyes bore into Bucky’s soul, picking it apart and burrowing deep, searching for cracks and handholds. “They never saw you the way I saw you, James. Your potential.”

The way he said the words creeped over Bucky, enveloping him in an all to familiar haze. It blanketed him, clouding over his thoughts. Unlike before, when Bucky would be reduced to an insecure mess, it passed without event.

Bucky was done with this bullshit

“You never saw me as anything but an asset. A way to add to your wall of industry awards. I’m not a piece of hardware. I’m worth more than that.”

Pierce’s eyes flashed angrily. Bucky felt Steve tense beside him when Rumlow moved forward. The last thing Steve needed was to get in a fight with Rumlow. Somehow, Pierce would surely spin the encounter to his benefit. Might even find a way to file a case against Steve.

Relief flooded him when he spotted movement behind Pierce. Fury stalked towards them, his coat billowing behind him. Nat and Sam following closely. 

Unaware of their audience, Pierce’s voice was cold but cordial. “I’m confident you’ll see things my way eventually, James.”

“You and I never did see things eye to eye,” Fury said, as soon as he was in hearing distance.

Pierce turned around slowly, his smile forced. “Nick. I was just looking for you. Thank you for extending an invitation to Hydra.”

"We both know neither you or Hydra were invited," Fury said coolly. He pulled out some papers from inside his coat. "Don't ever say I never gave you anything."

“What’s this?” Pierce asked snatching the papers from him.

“Restraining order,” Natasha said smugly. “You, Rumlow or anyone associated with Lunkin Records are not allowed within 300 feet of Bucky.”

“On what grounds?”

“Death threats. Stalking. Libel,” Fury said, counting them off with his fingers. “Take your pick.”

Sam crossed his arms and smirked. “You might not have done it yourself, but we have proof the people sending Bucky death threats are on your payroll. So are the people feeding stories to the media.”

Bucky watched a range of emotions pass through Pierce’s face as he read the papers. “These allegations are preposterous.” 

“Not more preposterous than ordering people to keep me drugged.” Bucky spat out.

Pierce whirled on Bucky, jaw clenched, and Bucky knew that Pierce was holding himself back from hitting him.

Steve tensed behind him and Bucky raised his chin at Pierce, refusing to back down. He wasn’t twenty-five and unable to distinguish friends from abusers. He knew exactly what Pierce was and he wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

“You’re going to regret this,” Pierce leaned closed and hissed at Bucky.

This time Steve got between them. “You don’t want to do that.” he said his voice steely. Steve looked murderous. 

“You have every right to contest them in court,” Natasha said in a bored voice. “But I wouldn’t if I were you. Right now, that’s just one bureaucratic piece of paper. I know a couple of reporters willing to dig deeper to find more.”

Fury smiled, clasping a heavy hand on Pierce’s shoulder, forcibly steering him towards the door. “Too bad you won’t be at the concert, Alex. I understand your man wasn’t feeling well and had to back out.”

Pierce’s smile was more a baring of teeth. “Brock apologizes for how his illness will affect your scheduling.“

He didn’t as much as look back at Rumlow before walking away, simply expecting Rumlow to follow.

When they were finally alone, Sam whistled low. “Holy crap. That was one scary motherfucker.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, forcing his racing heart to calm. He hadn’t even realized his pulse had been going a mile a minute.

“You planned all of this?” Bucky asked turning to Fury.

Fury shrugged, his usual cocky smirk on his face. “Pierce forced the timeline up a bit, but we got the job done.”

Bucky shook his head. Both of them knew it was more than just a job well done. Having Pierce on a leash changed  _ everything _ . 

“Thank you, Nick,” he said too much on the side of heartfelt that Fury raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not hugging you.”

-

A loud cheer floated around them like a wave as the curtains parted and the recital began. The first few shaky notes started playing and the cheering grew louder. It wasn’t his team, but Bucky put two fingers his mouth to whistle. They were all their kids, no matter whose team it was.

“You think this will ever get old?” Clint asked, also grinning ear to ear.

Bucky shook his head. “Not a chance.”

-

[ Image: A Tweet from user @CivilWarBand (CIVIL WAR) showing a bunch of teenagers goofing around.

Tweet caption: The future of music! #SHIELDAcademy]

-

The night of the concert was clear and bright. Stars shone above them, barely visible against the bright lights surrounding the concert area.

Bucky bounced on his feet, shaking off nerves as he waited for their cue to enter. Steve grabbed his hand and dragged him behind one of the curtain legs, planting a dizzying kiss on Bucky that left him breathless. Bucky pulled away, chuckling when a panicked Nat started loudly whispering for him. “You’re going to get me into trouble.”

Giving him one last peck before releasing him, Steve smiled mischievously. “A kiss for good luck.”

Natasha rolled her eyes when she finally saw Bucky stepping out from behind the curtain with Steve.

“Get on stage, you idiot.”

Bucky saluted her and quickly made his way to his spot. The curtains started parting and Bruce began a fierce tempo on his drums. Wanda’s electronic notes followed Bruce’s beat and then Clint, Tony and Bucky’s strings joined into an absolutely perfect melody.

Leaning into the microphone, Bucky took a breath to bask in the music before taking his cue to speak into the microphone.

“It’s been an incredible week and we’re proud to stand here in front of friends, fans and the first ever graduates of SHIELD Academy!”

An explosion of cheer came from the crowd, the SHIELD Academy kids making the most noise. Bucky shook his head, grinning at them

“We’re looking forward to seeing everyone back here next year. But, in the meantime, we’re hitting memory lane with our first ever single. This is “Angel with a Shotgun” and we are Civil War!”

-

[Image: A tweet from user @CIVILWARBAND (Civil War) showing a photo of the stage from behind a large crowd.]

Tweet caption: And that’s the last of it. It’s been fun but can’t wait to get back to New York City!]

-

Bucky breathed in deeply as soon as they stepped out of the automatic doors of the airport. 

“Nothing like New York air,” Steve said with a chuckle. He hefted his duffle bag on his shoulder, to avoid it getting run over by Tony’s trolley full of luggage

Around them, various clusters of their friends and Bucky’s family were milling around, waiting for the vans, but Buck only had eyes for Steve.

“No place like home,” Bucky said, smiling at him.

“I remember someone mentioning a date,” Steve murmured so that only the two of them could hear.

Bucky nodded and raised an eyebrow slightly. “I also remember you saying you don’t care if anyone knows about us.”

“I don’t. I’m proud of you, Buck.” Steve’s blue eyes shone despite the sparse New York sun. It spoke so loudly of the truth of his words that Bucky had to bite his lip from gasping out loud.

He was painfully aware that they were at La Guardia and that there were paparazzi everywhere, however, none of that mattered at that moment. Bucky pulled Steve towards him for a kiss, sinking into him, and smiling against his mouth when he heard a glorious whooping.

Bucky resisted giving his friends and family the finger, mindful of the children in the area.

It had been a long time since he had believed in happily ever after. Maybe it existed, maybe it didn’t. He didn’t care. As his friends and family cheered and with Steve in his arms, Bucky was ready for the rest of his life.

-

[ Image: An article from JustJared.com with a paparazzi shot of Bucky holding hands with Steve. Bucky is wearing a cap and sunglasses. Steve is wearing a cap and his face is turned away from the camera.  only his face is covered by a baseball cap.

Headline: Bucky Barnes airport lip-lock: more than a publicity stunt?

Article text: After Bucky Barnes was caught in a liplock at LaGuardia with an unidentified blond male, many Civil War fans who were rooting for him and Wanda Maximoff were left heartbroken. Some even claim that the Bucky/Mystery Man kiss was a ploy to keep Bucky and Wanda's romantic relationship a secret!

However, a recent event at a Soho art gallery suggested that our Mystery Guy and Bucky are still going strong. Some have identified MG as Bucky’s old bodyguard.

If that’s true then does that mean Bucky was macking on the guardia at LaGuardia? For that potential headline alone, we certainly hope so.

MORE HERE>>]

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at us on tumblr!
> 
> [deej (djchika)](http://djchika.tumblr.com/) 
> 
> [Lisa (Stucky1980) ](https://lisamott9.tumblr.com/)


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